


Lust and Lies

by DeathBelle



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Biting, Choking, Everything is consensual, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Hair Pulling, Kind of an Office!AU if you squint, M/M, Rough Sex, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-01
Updated: 2017-05-26
Packaged: 2018-10-13 16:28:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 38,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10517508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeathBelle/pseuds/DeathBelle
Summary: When Tendou hooks up with a stranger at a club, he expects their one-night stand to be only that: One night. By unexpected circumstance, he discovers Eita is an employee of Tendou's best friend, Ushijima. Eita is desperate to keep their fling a secret, Tendou is desperate to get closer to Eita, and he devises a plan to bring them together. When it all blows up in a storm of guilt and resentment, Tendou thinks he's lost Eita for good.He's willing to do whatever it takes to get Eita back, but he fears it's much too late.(translation into Spanish available; link in first chapter)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I just wanted an excuse to write rough Tensemi sex, and then it developed feelings and spiraled out of control. 
> 
> I'll be updating this weekly (along with my other two ongoing fics because Haikyuu has taken over my life). 
> 
> Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoy!
> 
> EDIT: There is now a Spanish translation by DalHnrz! You can find it on Wattpad [HERE.](https://my.w.tt/4ZrpG1EImM)

When Tendou had decided to go out to the club, he hadn’t intended to take someone home.

He definitely hadn’t intended to be _taken_ home by the prettiest man he’d ever laid eyes on.

Tendou’s nights out were fairly typical. He would go out, have a few drinks, and maybe dance if he got tipsy enough. He liked to play a game with himself that consisted of choosing the most macho man in the club and insulting them until they threw a punch at him and got kicked out. Then Tendou would swoop in and take their half-finished drink as a victory trophy. 

He was a man of simple tastes. 

Now all he could taste was nicotine and the sugar-sweet remnants of a mixed drink, clinging to the tongue that dipped into his mouth.

Tendou licked back, traced a flawless set of teeth, and gripped the bare hip beneath him.

The man had introduced himself as Eita. It was clearly his given name, because he probably didn’t want Tendou to somehow figure out who he was. Tendou had accepted the title without argument or complaint, because he had still been a little too stunned that someone who looked like _that_ was actually talking to him.

Eita was a cocktail of lean curves, sharp eyes, and a sharper tongue, all wrapped up in a smoky voice that made Tendou weak. He’d been dressed to kill in skin-tight jeans, a v-neck shirt that gave an enticing preview of his collarbones, and leather boots that matched his jacket. He was edgy but pretty, fierce but approachable.

Saying that he looked good would have been an understatement. In Tendou’s humble opinion, Eita was by far the most attractive human being in that club.

He looked even better now, laid bare beneath Tendou’s hands, head thrown back as Tendou thrust into him.

Their bodies slid together, slicked by sweat and lube, the slap of skin against skin interspersed by gasps and moans. 

Eita reached up, seized a fistful of Tendou’s hair, and pulled him down until their mouths crashed together. Teeth clacked. Tendou thought maybe he tasted a hint of blood but Eita licked it away, a sharp canine digging into his bottom lip before Eita released him.

Eita’s eyes were so sharp that Tendou felt they were cutting right through him. Baring his teeth in a soft snarl, Eita said, “Harder.”

Tendou tightened his grip on Eita’s hip and complied. He was so far gone that he would’ve done just about anything Eita told him to.

He pounded into him, his breath escaping him in gasps of effort. Eita’s legs tightened around him, forcing him closer. Eita’s hands pawed at his back, then he sank his nails into the flesh just below Tendou’s shoulderblades and dragged them down.

Tendou tossed his head back and bit down on a cry. If he let Eita know it hurt, he would either stop or make it hurt more. Tendou wasn’t sure which would be worse.

“Harder,” Eita growled, clawing at Tendou’s lower back so fiercely that Tendou felt the skin break. “You’re not going to break me. Fuck me _harder_.”

“Okay,” said Tendou. It was more of a gasp than actual speech. He released Eita’s hip and shifted, planting one hand in the mattress beside Eita’s head, using the other to grip the headboard for leverage. “Okay,” he said one more time, and it sounded more like his own voice.

He paused just long enough to fill his lungs. Then he drew his hips back and slammed into Eita with everything he had.

Eita threw his head back, mouth opening around a wordless shout. His hands moved to Tendou’s shoulders, burrowing into a firm grip. “ _Yes_ ,” he said. “Like that, yes!”

Tendou pounded into him, throwing all of his strength into his hips, transfixed by the look on Eita’s face that was caught somewhere between aggression and ecstasy.

Even like that, splayed out and wrecked and half-desperate, he was stunning.

Tendou wanted to kiss him. Not just his mouth, but everywhere: his neck, his chest, his stomach, his thighs. Someone that beautiful deserved to be savored. Someone that beautiful deserved to be _worshiped_.

That had been his intention when Eita had brought him home and pushed him into the unfamiliar bed. 

Eita had different ideas, though, and Tendou wasn’t going to argue. He was lucky that he was even getting this.

A moan dripped through Eita’s lips, husky and feral. 

A white-hot jolt zipped down to Tendou’s groin and he clenched his jaw, commanding himself not to come yet. It was almost impossible not to, with the sight and sounds and sensation, but Tendou was nothing if not a gentleman.

It didn’t appear that he was going to have to wait very long. Eita was quickly coming undone, panting beneath him, fingers clawing more desperately at the stinging skin of Tendou’s back. 

Eita moaned again, and it was mostly a snarl.

He grabbed Tendou’s hand, the one next to his head, and nearly unbalanced him. Tendou transferred his weight to the arm braced against the headboard to keep himself upright.

Tendou assumed Eita wanted to hold his hand. It didn’t really fit the script of the evening, but he wasn’t going to complain.

Eita, however, was not interested in hand-holding.

He pressed Tendou’s hand against his own throat and squeezed around Tendou’s fingers. 

Tendou stopped mid-thrust. Eita’s skin was soft and pliant beneath his palm, and he felt the flutter of his pulse against his fingers.

Eita scowled up at him, impatient. “Keep going,” he said, the words rough. “Choke me and keep going.”

Tendou tried to pull his hand away but Eita held it in place. “Eita, I can’t-”

“Shut up,” snapped Eita. “Just do it. Keep fucking me and do it.” He ground himself up, sparking friction between them, and Tendou swallowed a moan. 

“What if I hurt you?”

Eita’s eyes narrowed. “Then you’re doing it right.”

Tendou’s breath caught. He tried to pull away again and Eita seized his wrist in both of his hands, preventing him. “Eita, stop-”

“It won’t hurt me,” said Eita, trying a different tactic. “Come on, just a little bit. Please. Do you want me to beg?”

“That’s not-”

“I’ll tell you to stop if I need you to,” said Eita. “Just do it, _please_ do it.”

He looked up at Tendou with those eyes, his mouth open just enough for Tendou to catch a flash of teeth. Eita let go of Tendou’s wrist and trailed one of his hands down his own chest, feeling over his stomach, loosely fisting his own cock without looking away from Tendou. “Please?” 

Tendou knew it was an act. Eita had done nothing to suggest he was anything other than smoky air and sharp glass. The politeness was a façade, and Tendou knew it.

Even so, Tendou gripped the headboard, tightened long fingers around Eita’s throat, and slammed into him. 

A choked sound scraped out of Eita’s mouth. Tendou relaxed his grip but Eita seized his forearm, silently telling him not to stop. Eita tilted his head back to give him more access, a breath huffing from between spit-slick lips as Tendou carefully squeezed.

Eita’s eyes rolled up, eyelids fluttering closed. He started fisting his own cock with urgency, and Tendou only had to slam into him once more before Eita was coming, painting white lines across his stomach.

He constricted around Tendou, who was already on the precipice of his own release. When he let go of Eita’s throat he tightened even more, squeezing Tendou like a vice, and Tendou came only seconds after. 

He toppled onto the bed beside Eita, breath coming in uneven bursts. Eita still had his head tilted back and his eyes closed, chest heaving. He brought one hand up and prodded at the skin of his neck, as if checking for damage.

“Did I hurt you?” whispered Tendou.

Eita didn’t look at him. “No.”

“Are you sure? I didn’t want to-”

“I said no.” Eita pushed himself up and shuffled to the edge of the bed. He stood and turned away from Tendou, still rubbing at his neck. “I’m going to take a shower. Show yourself out.”

“Oh,” said Tendou dumbly. “I, uh… okay.”

Eita walked away without looking at him, and quickly shut the bathroom door between them. 

Tendou stayed sprawled out on the bed until he heard the water cut on. Then he slowly peeled himself up and started sorting his clothes out of the messy pile on the floor. He found a small trash can in the corner in which he dropped the used condom before stepping into his underwear.

He felt kind of sleazy leaving like that. He wanted to at least have a conversation with Eita. Tendou didn’t usually have that kind of sex. He didn’t know if he’d done something wrong.

When he pulled his shirt on the scratches on his back burned. There was no mirror in the room, but he figured Eita had left more than a mark or two. 

Tendou didn’t mind. Eita could hurt him all he wanted. 

When he was dressed he stepped out of the bedroom and toward the front door of the apartment. He glanced around furtively, taking a quick assessment of Eita’s belongings. He appeared to be a fairly neat individual. Very few things were out of place. 

Tendou wondered how often Eita brought someone home with him like this. It would be all too easy for Tendou to go back into the bedroom and swipe Eita’s wallet out of his pants pocket. He hoped no one had tried to take advantage of Eita like that. 

He paused with his hand on the doorknob, looking over his shoulder one last time.

Clearly Eita wanted him to leave. He hadn’t left any room for adverse interpretation. Tendou shouldn’t care. He hadn’t expected Eita to even speak to him, much less invite him home. Wanting any more than he’d already been generously rewarded was just greedy. 

Still, he stepped over to the counter and plucked a pen out of a spare mug, using one of Eita’s post-it notes to scrawl down his number. He wrote his name, too, just in case Eita had forgotten. Only his given name, because since Eita had been reluctant to offer his family name, Tendou hadn’t given his, either. 

He left the note on the kitchen counter. He didn’t expect to hear anything from Eita again, but he couldn’t just go without leaving something. That was the entire point of a one-night stand, Tendou supposed. He’d never had one before.

He left Eita’s apartment and started walking toward the bus stop. Considering how lucky he was to have slept with someone as attractive as Eita, he still felt uncomfortably empty. 

  
  
  
  
Tendou didn’t expect to hear from Eita again. He likely never would have, had it not been for an incident of extreme coincidence the following week.

Tendou had met Ushijima Wakatoshi in college. They’d become friends easily, which was somewhat surprising considering their polar opposite personalities. At first Tendou had expected to push Ushijima to his breaking point quickly. After all, Tendou was a little much for most people to handle. He thought someone as stoic and serious as Ushijima wouldn’t spare much patience for his antics.

Despite the amount of effort Tendou put into tormenting him, Ushijima became a solid presence in his life. They graduated together, and even when they branched off in different directions after college, they kept in touch.

Five years later Ushijima became the owner of the largest newspaper in Tokyo, and Tendou had been offered a part-time, work-from-home position at Ushijima’s request.

Tendou had taken it gladly. His type of work wasn’t exactly stable, so it was comforting to have a consistent source of income, though on its own, the paycheck signed by Ushijima wouldn’t have been enough to live on. It helped, though, and Tendou suspected that was most of the reason that Ushijima had offered him the work in the first place.

Despite being under Ushijima’s employ, it was a rare occasion that Tendou actually visited the eight-story building that housed The Shiratorizawa Post. His contribution to The Post was always submitted via email to the editing staff. 

He rarely visited, but Ushijima was also rarely late to their weekly lunch date. 

Thursday afternoon found Tendou lounging in Ushijima’s office, sitting sideways in one of the chairs with his legs dangling over one arm and his head tilted back over the other. He kicked his feet idly and watched Ushijima from an inverted perspective.

“I apologize,” said Ushijima again. “He’s never placed me on hold this long. It’s quite unprofessional.”

“No worries, Waka,” said Tendou with an upside-down grin. “I’ve got nothing but time.”

“Well I do not,” said Ushijima. His already stern brow creased even further as he scowled down at the phone on his desk.

“Don’t let the little things get to ya,” said Tendou. He righted himself and swiveled, pulling his legs against his chest as he turned to face Ushijima. “Stress ages you. I mean, you’re practically sixty-five at this point. You need to stop it there before you turn seventy.”

Ushijima just looked at him. “I’m twenty-eight, as are you.”

Tendou sighed. “I know, Waka. Not the point.”

There was a tap at the door. Ushijima barely looked up. “Yes?”

“Ushijima-san. I need your signature on these documents.”

Ushijima gestured for the person to enter before refocusing on his phone, as if the harder he stared the more quickly he would be acknowledged. 

Tendou sat back and wondered if he would be able to convince Ushijima to go somewhere other than their usual weekly haunt. Ushijima was a man of stolid consistency. He enjoyed visiting the same restaurant and ordering the same thing on the same day of the week. Tendou could live with that, but he also wanted to introduce some excitement into Ushijima’s life. 

He hadn’t been able to talk him into visiting the shady ramen bar on the corner, because the shop had the ambience of a slaughterhouse, but maybe today would be the day.

Ushijima’s employee stepped past Tendou’s chair without looking at him. Tendou tilted his head and eyed the slim legs in fitted dress slacks, traveling up the line of the man’s waist to the button-up that sat snugly on broad shoulders. His gaze flicked up further, to the pale hair that was pushed neatly back from his face, the tips dipped in dark, ashy black.

Recognition hit him all at once and Tendou slapped a hand over his mouth to keep from shouting.

That made a sharp sound of skin against skin, and the man turned with a raised brow, sharp, familiar eyes cutting into Tendou.

Those eyes widened and Eita’s jaw went slack, along with his fingers. The papers he’d been delivering to Ushijima fluttered from his hands and sprayed across the floor of the office.

They just stared at each other, Eita with his arms hanging uselessly at his sides, Tendou with his hand still flattened over his mouth.

Then Ushijima cleared his throat, and Eita whipped back around to face him. “I’m sorry,” said Eita quickly, dropping into a rushed bow. “Forgive my clumsiness, Ushijima-san. If you’ll give me just a moment I’ll gather them back up and-”

“Hello, Ushiwaka-chan!” The tinny voice filtered through the speaker of Ushijima’s phone.

Ushijima gave Eita a sharp look, then picked up the phone and swiveled in his chair to face the windows behind his desk. “Please don’t call me that, Oikawa.”

Eita dropped to his knees and started collecting the mess of paperwork. His cheeks were dusted with scarlet and his fingers trembled as he haphazardly stacked the stray pages.

Tendou unfolded himself from his chair and crouched down beside him. “Here, let me help you.”

“I’ve got it,” snapped Eita, snatching a paper from beneath Tendou’s hand. “I don’t need your help.”

Tendou withdrew but remained beside Eita, watching with a slight tilt of his head as Eita struggled to collect the paperwork.

Above them, Ushijima carried on his conversation. Tendou knew that Oikawa owned a rival newspaper that was only slightly less popular than The Shiratorizawa Post. Oikawa wasn’t a fan of Ushijima, yet they still seemed to speak on the phone quite frequently.

Tendou could have taken a wild guess as to what they were discussing, but Ushijima’s voice buzzed like static in his ears. The only thing he could focus on was Eita.

He couldn’t help thinking about the way Eita had bucked beneath him, the way he’d snapped orders like he had something to prove, the way he’d thrown his head back in bliss as he came.

“What?” said Eita, still not looking at him. “I said I’ve got it. Back off.”

Tendou didn’t move. “So you work for Waka, huh?”

Eita finally looked at him, still sharp despite his incomprehension and embarrassment. “What?”

“Waka,” said Tendou, gesturing vaguely. “Wakatoshi. Ushijima.”

Somewhere above them, Ushijima said, “I am not sabotaging your business, Oikawa. My newspaper is simply better. I have offered you a position here on more than one occasion.”

There was the distant sound of Oikawa’s outrage, screeching through the phone pressed against Ushijima’s ear.

Tendou would have been amused by the conversation if he’d had any attention to spare for it.

“Waka?” repeated Eita. His face twisted into an expression that Tendou couldn’t interpret. Then he dived for the rest of the papers with newfound desperation. 

“Seriously, here. I’ll help you-”

Eita grabbed the sheet of paper out of Tendou’s hand and stood, balancing the freshly disorganized sheaf of pages in his arms. “Leave me alone,” he said, his voice a low hiss. He tried to shuffle the papers together more neatly but they were still in brilliant disarray. “Dammit.” He looked from Tendou to the back of Ushijima’s chair. Then he turned to hasten out of the room. 

“Hey, wait,” said Tendou, taking a single step after him. “Eita?”

Eita’s glare was honed steel. “Don’t call me that.”

Then he was gone, ducking out of Ushijima’s office without another word.

Tendou stared after him until Ushijima hung up his phone and stood.

“That was a waste of time,” said Ushijima. He was unruffled by the phone call, and seemed unaware that anything odd had transpired between Tendou and Eita. “Oikawa only wanted to complain because he is short on staff. I thought perhaps he’d changed his mind about working for me.”

Tendou finally dragged his gaze away from the empty doorway to look at Ushijima. He forced a smile, and was grateful, not for the first time, that Ushijima wasn’t the most perceptive of individuals. He could feel the false way that the grin tugged at his face, but he knew Ushijima wouldn’t notice. “Come on, Waka. You know Oikawa is too much of a diva to work here. You’d be sick of him in twenty minutes.”

“Oikawa is good at what he does,” said Ushijima. “He would do good work here.”

Tendou rolled his eyes. “Whatever you say. Hey, who was that guy that was just in here?”

Ushijima moved to retrieve his coat from the hanger behind his desk. “Semi Eita. He’s one of my editors.”

“Semi Eita,” repeated Tendou. It sounded vaguely familiar. He’d probably seen the name before, in one of the newspaper articles or in an email. 

“He is usually more efficient,” said Ushijima. “I don’t know what is wrong with him today.”

“Yeah,” agreed Tendou idly. “I wonder.”

  
  
  
  
Tendou’s phone rang at half past five. He didn’t know the number, so he didn’t expect to recognize the voice on the other end.

It was all too familiar, though, and his phone nearly fell through his fingers.

“ _Did you tell him_?” the voice demanded, equally as cutting as it was in person.

Tendou knew from the first syllable it was Eita. Despite that he said, “I’m sorry, who is this? I think maybe you have the wrong number.”

“Shut up,” snapped Eita. “You know who it is. _Did you tell him_?”

Tendou hummed. “You mean Wakatoshi?”

“Who else would I mean?”

Tendou lounged back in his desk chair and started spinning in slow circles, head tilted back to view the ceiling of his room. “Did I tell him what, exactly? That you like picking up stray men in bars? Or that you take them home without concern for your personal safety? Or that you asked me to-”

“Any of it,” said Eita, voice blurring into a growl. “Did you tell him anything?”

Tendou hummed, dragging the sound out until he heard Eita shuffling impatiently in his ear. “Maybe,” said Tendou, “and maybe not. Meet me for coffee and I’ll tell you.”

“What? I’m not meeting you for anything.”

“Then I guess you’ll never know,” said Tendou, sing-song. 

There was a tense pause on the other end. Tendou kept spinning, a vague smile on his face. 

When Eita spoke again his voice was tamer, though the heat of his anger still boiled beneath the words. “Fine,” he gritted out. “Where?”

“There’s a nice little café on Block 20,” said Tendou. “Their lattes are delicious, and they make these cute little pastries that-”

“I’ll be there in thirty minutes,” said Eita. 

The call ended, and Tendou dropped his phone to the side with a sigh. 

Getting a date shouldn’t take this much effort.

  
  
  
  
Eita was already at the café when Tendou arrived. He had seated himself in the back corner, arms folded, glaring at the surface at the table with such intensity that he was on the verge of burning a hole straight through.

Tendou kept one eye on Eita as he placed his order at the counter. If Eita had noticed him walking in, he was hiding the knowledge well.

There was no drink sitting in front of him, so Tendou requested double his usual order. He spared a wide smile for the barista and then approached Eita’s table, placing one drink in front of him before lounging in the vacant chair. 

“Hello there, Eita,” said Tendou. “Fancy meeting you here.”

Eita’s glare snapped up to Tendou, landed on the drink, and then settled back on the table. “Don’t call me that.”

“That’s your name, isn’t it?”

Eita said nothing.

Tendou took a slurp of latte, eyeing Eita over the rim of his cup. “Okay then, Semi-Semi.”

Eita’s glare was sharpened with affront. “Don’t call me that, either.”

“What would you like to be called, then?”

“Nothing,” said Eita. He folded his arms more tightly. “Not by you.”

“And here I was, trying to be nice,” said Tendou. He prodded at the latte in front of Eita. “It’s vanilla. Do you like vanilla? It doesn’t match your sexual preferences, but-”

“Shut up,” said Eita. His hand twitched, as if he either wanted to reach for the latte or fling it in Tendou’s face. “Did you tell him or not?”

Tendou took another large sip of his latte and licked a stray smear of foam off of his upper lip. “Waka’s poor innocent heart couldn’t handle it. I didn’t tell him anything.” He tilted his head to one side. “Not yet.”

Eita clenched his jaw so hard that Tendou thought he might break his own teeth.

“Why are you so worried, anyway?” asked Tendou, his grin falling. “Waka doesn’t care about things like this. I’ve told him worse stories and he hasn’t even flinched.”

“He’s my boss,” Eita gritted out. “I have to keep a good impression if I’m ever going to get my job back.”

“Job?” repeated Tendou, raising a brow. “What job? You’re an editor, right?”

Eita’s left eye twitched. “Yeah, I’m an editor,” he said, the words steeped in bitterness. 

“Then what are you-”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You don’t want to talk about anything. You were much more sociable last week, Semi-Semi. Especially when you asked me to go back to your place.”

“Shut up.”

“Sleeping with me might not be so bad for your image, anyway,” mused Tendou. He drummed his fingers against the edge of his cup and leaned back in his chair. “Waka and I are pretty good friends. It might make him like you more.”

Eita’s glare was a clear indication of how he felt about that idea.

“You’re very angry,” said Tendou. “That’s not good for your health, Semi-Semi.”

“I said don’t call me that.”

“Well I have to call you something, don’t I?”

“Not if you never speak to me again,” said Eita. 

“I’m hurt,” said Tendou. He pressed a hand against his chest, just over his heart. “Here I was, thinking we’d made a connection. You kept my phone number and everything.”

“No, I didn’t,” said Eita. He glared at the latte on the table, untouched. “I found your information in the staff directory. I didn’t know you were _Tendou_ Satori.”

“You’ve heard of me then,” said Tendou with a grin. “My name precedes me.”

Eita finally looked at him again. It wasn’t with a pleasant expression. “You used to email me your submissions to the paper every fucking week. Of course I know your name.”

Maybe that was why Semi’s name was familiar, then. He’d never really paid attention to whom he was sending his work. Ushijima gave him an email address and that was the one he used.

If he’d been a little more aware, maybe this wouldn’t have happened.

“Oh,” he said. 

Eita rolled his eyes. He reached for the latte, belatedly realized what he was doing, and drew his hand back again.

“What do you mean, I used to?” asked Tendou. “Who do I send them to now?”

Eita’s mouth twisted into a grimace. “Shirabu.”

Tendou idly nodded. That did sound somewhat familiar.

“What do you want, anyway?” said Eita. He crossed his arms again and redirected his glare to a random point across the café. Luckily there was no one directly in the line of fire or they probably would have burst into flames. “Why’d you make me come here?”

“You wanted to know if I told Waka,” said Tendou. “I didn’t.”

“Yet,” said Eita.

Tendou shrugged. “Yet.”

“You could’ve told me that on the phone.”

“Yeah, but I wanted to see you.”

Eita’s eyes narrowed further. “What do you want?”

Tendou tipped back the rest of his latte, the vanilla sweet on his tongue. He nudged his cup toward the center of the table and leaned on his elbows. “What do you mean?”

Eita exhaled. It was slow, deliberate, as if he was barely keeping himself under control. “What do you want,” he repeated, the words sliding through gritted teeth, “to keep your mouth shut about this?”

It took Tendou longer than it should have to realize what Eita meant.

When he realized Eita thought Tendou was planning to blackmail him, he almost laughed.

Tendou pressed his lips together to conceal his humor and sat up a little straighter. “Right,” he said. “Well, my silence isn’t going to be cheap. I mean, this is a big secret, you know? Your career could be at stake.”

Tendou didn’t believe a single word that came out of his own mouth. He’d known Ushijima for years, and if he’d learned anything at all about the man, it was that he was completely devoid of judgment. Tendou had told Ushijima stories that were so questionable that Tendou was almost ashamed of them himself. Ushijima had never batted an eye. 

Ushijima knew Tendou was gay. Tendou had told him, in great detail, stories of his sexual exploits. Ushijima listened begrudgingly, not particularly invested in the tales, but he’d never thought any less of Tendou as a result.

If he found out that Eita and Tendou had hooked up, Ushijima would be unconcerned. Even if he was informed of all of the gritty details, he wouldn’t offer even a modicum of offense. 

Tendou knew that, but clearly Eita did not.

Eita’s fists tightened, his eyes flickering from Tendou back down to rest on the table. “Do you want sex?”

Tendou’s face went slack. Eita wasn’t looking at him, so he didn’t notice.

Eita actually thought Tendou would stoop to the level of blackmailing him to receive sexual favors.

Did that qualify as rape? Tendou was pretty sure that qualified as rape.

“No,” said Tendou. He’d expected the word to sound as shocked as he felt, but it came out quiet, hollow.

Eita frowned. “I don’t have much money.”

“I don’t want your money, either.”

Eita scowled up at him. “What do you want, then? I don’t have anything else.”

“Go to dinner with me,” said Tendou. “Saturday night.”

Eita raised a skeptical brow at him. “What?”

“You heard me. Saturday night. What kind of food do you like?”

For the first time since Tendou had arrived, Eita’s glare faltered. It was edged away by confusion, and for a moment he looked five years younger. “What are you talking about?” said Eita. “You don’t have to be a gentleman about it. If you want to fuck me then just say so, don’t waste my time with dinner first.”

“I don’t… that’s not what I said.” Tendou wasn’t sure how their conversation had even reached that point. It was all a muddled mess, like someone had been fingerpainting on the surface of his brain. “I said dinner. Just dinner.”

“Why?”

“Yes or no?” said Tendou. “If you don’t want to, I can call Waka right now and-”

“Fine,” said Eita, the word sharp. “Whatever. Can I go now?”

“You haven’t finished your latte.”

“I don’t want it.”

“I bought it for you.”

“That’s why I don’t want it.”

Tendou sighed. He thought Eita was being a little dramatic. Then again, Tendou might act a little dramatic, too, if he thought someone was blackmailing him. “Okay then. I’ll walk you out.”

“That’s not necessary.”

“I’m doing it anyway.”

Eita’s chair scraped back as he stood and stormed toward the café door. Tendou waved cheerfully at the barista as they stepped out onto the sidewalk.

“Did you save my number?” said Eita.

“Yep!”

“Text me where to meet you Saturday. I’ll be there,” said Eita. He didn’t look very pleased about it.

“Don’t look so glum,” said Tendou. He leaned over and nudged his shoulder against Eita’s. “The secret of your sexual deviance is safe with me, Semi-Semi.” Eita went still. Tendou expected him to snap something back, sharp with anger, but he said nothing. Eita didn’t even look as furious as he had through the entire encounter. His face was almost blank, brows pulled too low, eyes looking at nothing.

Tendou realized he’d taken his teasing a little too far.

“Hey, Eita, I didn’t mean-”

Eita turned on his heel and stalked away, hands thrust deep in his pockets. Tendou thought about chasing after him with his apology, but thought that would only make it worse. He waited until Eita was out of sight before he started walking himself, mechanically making his way back to his apartment.

Tendou wasn’t going to tell Ushijima anything about Eita. He would never do that. He knew that, but clearly Eita didn’t.

He probably shouldn’t have pretended otherwise. Even though he wasn’t actually blackmailing Eita, the fact that Eita thought he was meant it was just as bad.

Tendou should call him, apologize, and tell him he had nothing to worry about. 

Once Eita was assured that Tendou wasn’t going to run his mouth, though, Eita would subsequently never speak to him again.

If Tendou kept the charade up just a little longer, he had a foolproof date for Saturday night with the most attractive man who’d ever spared Tendou a second glance.

He would tell Eita on Saturday, after they had dinner. 

Waiting two more days wasn’t going to hurt anyone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As of next week I'm going to start updating this every Friday. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! ^^

Tendou knew Eita would show up for dinner. In Eita’s mind, he didn’t have a choice.

Still, it was somewhat of a relief to see Eita round the corner and approach the front of the restaurant, where Tendou waited with a curved grin.

“Hello, Semi-Semi,” said Tendou when Eita was within hearing range. “How lovely to see you this evening.”

Eita’s glare was only a shade lighter than it had been two days before at the café. Tendou didn’t think his bitterness had faded, though. Eita just looked tired, as if he couldn’t muster up the energy to be as snappy as usual. “Whatever.”

“Shall we go in?”

“If we have to.”

Tendou pulled the door open and half-bowed as he gestured Eita inside. Eita consented with a roll of his eyes, shuffling inside the restaurant with Tendou on his heels.

They sat at a booth against the rear wall of the restaurant. The smells of miso and grilled meat were heavy on the air, but Tendou didn’t spare much attention for the atmosphere. He eyed Eita closely as Eita glanced over the menu, his chin propped in his hand. 

“Have you been here before?” asked Tendou. 

“Couple of years ago, I think,” said Eita absently, still perusing the food selection. “Can’t really remember.”

“They have great tonkatsu,” said Tendou. “Even Waka likes it, and he’s the most finicky person I’ve ever met.”

Eita glanced up sharply at the mention of Ushijima, but quickly returned his gaze to the menu. “Thanks for the recommendation,” he said, his voice flat.

Tendou tilted his head and frowned. This wasn’t exactly a great start to the date, but considering the circumstances, it could have been worse.

He should have told Eita that he wasn’t going to blackmail him the second they sat down. He was certain that once Eita found out he would storm off, though. 

Tendou would just wait until after dinner. There was nothing wrong with that.

When the waiter came, Tendou ordered the tonkatsu. Eita pointedly did not.

“So why don’t I send my newspaper submissions to you anymore?” asked Tendou. He idly swirled the straw in his water, creating a tiny hurricane of ice cubes. 

Eita’s mouth twitched. “That’s not my job anymore.”

“Why?”

Eita glared at Tendou’s hand, as if the clinking of the ice cubes annoyed him.

Tendou stirred a little harder.

“None of your business,” said Eita. He rested his chin in his palm and cut his gaze toward the middle of the restaurant. “So is that all you do, then? You sit at home and draw those stupid little comics for the paper?”

Tendou recognized a change of subject when he heard one, but he allowed Eita to derail the conversation. He gave his straw one last twirl and sat back against the padded booth. “You don’t like my comics, Semi-Semi?”

Eita snorted. “They’re dumb.”

“They’re supposed to be. That’s why they’re funny.”

“They’re not funny. Just stupid.”

Tendou might’ve been hurt by that, had he believed it. Eita had every reason to be coarse with him, though, so he was probably being rude intentionally. Besides, Tendou knew he was funny.

“Aside from my brilliant comics,” said Tendou loftily, “I also do commissions for some other businesses. Logos and sketches and stuff. I also have an online manga that I update monthly. It’s about this guy, and everyone thinks he’s kind of weird, but in reality he-”

“I don’t care,” said Eita bluntly. “Manga is worse than comics.”

Tendou blinked twice, slowly. 

Eita seemed to sense the shift in his mood. He glanced at Tendou and received a blank stare in return.

“You take that back,” Tendou whispered.

Eita smirked. It was the first semblance of a smile that he’d shown since that night at the club. “Never.”

Normally that would be the moment that Tendou decided to end a date.

But Eita looked so good when he smiled – even if it was a dark, cutting smile – that Tendou supposed he could forgive him.

The waiter arrived shortly after with their food, and the meal passed calmly. Tendou insisted that Eita taste his tonkatsu and Eita repeatedly refused, even when Tendou flung a piece onto his plate. Eita just nudged it out of his way and kept eating.

When they’d finished and were waiting for the check, Tendou said, “You look tired, Semi-Semi. Did you sleep last night?”

Eita shrugged. “I stayed up late working. I’m fine.”

“If Waka is giving you too much work, you can just tell him-”

“He’s not,” snapped Eita. “It’s not too much. It’s not enough, if anything. It’s all just stupid basic editing shit. I could do it in my sleep.”

The defensive edge in his voice was so sharp that Tendou sat back a little so he wouldn’t get cut. 

“Okay then, Semi-Semi. Whatever you say.”

Eita didn’t comment when Tendou paid the full bill, though he studied him through narrowed eyes. When they left the building the two of them hesitated just outside, the chill of the night air stark against the warmth of the restaurant. 

Eita shuffled awkwardly in place, eyes darting everywhere except in Tendou’s direction. “So I guess you want to come back to my place?”

Tendou looked at him. Eita didn’t look averse to the idea; he simply looked resigned.

Tendou, in fact, would love to go back to Eita’s place. He wanted to taste Eita’s neck and feel his pulse against his tongue. He wanted to strip him down so slowly that Eita writhed in impatience. He wanted to tease Eita with his fingers and his mouth and his tongue until he was reduced to a moaning mess.

He wanted to do a great number of things with Eita, but he was fairly certain that Eita was not as eager as he was.

“Nah,” said Tendou. “I think you need to get some sleep, Semi-Semi. You’re getting dark circles.”

Eita blinked up at him, eyes squinting in confusion. “What?”

“You heard me,” said Tendou with a shrug. “I do want to get lunch one day next week though. Is Tuesday good?”

Eita just stared at him. When he spoke, his voice was thick with exasperation. “Why?”

“I just want to take you to lunch. Do I need a reason?”

Eita sighed and looked at the sidewalk. “Do I have a choice?”

“Of course, Semi-Semi,” said Tendou brightly. 

“Right,” said Eita, his mouth twisting into a grimace. “I can have lunch with you or let you ruin my reputation with Ushijima. That’s a hell of a choice.”

That was the perfect opportunity for Tendou to come clean. He could tell Eita that he had a choice because Tendou wasn’t going to tell Ushijima either way. Then he could ask him to go to lunch properly, and the awkwardness between them would evaporate.

Without that looming threat, though, Eita would probably say no. He would have no reason to agree, otherwise. 

Telling him was the right thing to do anyway, even if he would never speak to Tendou again.

Because he wouldn’t. Tendou was certain of that.

Eita would never be interested in him beyond the one-night stand that had already expired. 

So was it so wrong to get one more date out of him while he had the chance?

“It’s just lunch, Semi-Semi,” said Tendou. He felt a little slimy as he said it. “Don’t look so down.”

“Whatever,” said Eita. “Text me on Tuesday, I guess.”

“Okay then!” said Tendou. He grinned but it felt too tight, pulling strangely at his face.

Eita frowned up at him. “You know, you don’t have to fuck around. If you want something from me just say it. Leading up to it like this is just annoying. I’ll give you whatever you want.”

He was serious, and that was the most painful part.

“This is what I want,” said Tendou. 

“But why? Do you just want to watch me suffer? Do you get off on that?”

“It wouldn’t be the strangest kink between us, would it?” 

Tendou shouldn’t have said it. He knew that as soon as the words left his mouth.

But it was too late to take them back, and too late to stop the wince that momentarily flickered across Eita’s face.

“You know,” said Eita, his voice low, “this is why I pick up guys at clubs. I fuck them once and then I never have to see them again. I never have to see the judgment on their fucking faces.” 

He turned away from Tendou and started walking. 

Tendou watched him go with his hands in his pockets.

He was pretty sure he’d just become one of the worst human beings in Tokyo. 

If there had ever been a time he’d felt worse about himself, he couldn’t remember it.

  
  
  
  
Despite feeling like absolute shit, he still met up with Eita for lunch on Tuesday. They went to the ramen bar that Ushijima still refused to go to. Now Ushijima would only refer to it as the Slaughterhouse, and Tendou had long since forgotten its proper name.

The food was pretty good, despite the sketchy kitchen staff and questionable atmosphere. 

The company would have been even better, had Eita not been in such a foul mood.

Tendou wasn’t really surprised. He supposed if he was in Eita’s situation he wouldn’t exactly be a bundle of rainbows and sunshine, either.

“So is this your usual bad attitude or has something new crawled up your ass and died?” asked Tendou, punctuating the sentence with a slurp of noodles.

Eita’s glare was as sharp as ever, but it didn’t cut Tendou so deeply. Maybe he was getting used to it.

“Rough day at work,” said Eita, the words dripping with frustration. He stabbed at his noodles with his chopsticks. 

“What’s rough about it?” said Tendou. He leaned forward slightly. 

“Fucking Shirabu.”

Tendou leaned forward even more. He’d never gotten Eita to talk about himself before. “What about Shirabu? What’d he do?”

Eita’s mouth was already open to speak when he looked up and remembered it was Tendou he was talking to. He pressed his lips together in a frown and scowled down at his food. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

Tendou sighed and sank back in his seat. He’d been so close.

“Why do you care, anyway?” said Eita, eyeing Tendou over his bowl of ramen.

“You seem upset.”

“So?”

“So I was just wondering why.”

“And again,” said Eita, “why do you even care?”

Tendou frowned at him. “Because I care. Do I need a reason?”

The skeptical look on Eita’s face suggested that yes, he needed a reason.

Tendou didn’t know what else to say, so he slurped up more noodles.

The conversation lapsed until they’d both finished, and Tendou said, “So I was thinking we should go out to dinner again this weekend. Does Friday or Saturday work better for you?”

Eita’s stare was flat, and when he spoke, his voice was loaded with a new caliber of bitterness. “Are you really so lonely that you’re willing to blackmail me into spending time with you?”

Sort of.

“Of course not,” said Tendou. “I just like you.”

Eita raised an eyebrow in blatant disbelief. “Why? I’m a dick.”

Well, Tendou couldn’t really argue with that.

“You’re not exactly optimistic,” said Tendou. “But I like you anyway.”

“Then you’re a moron,” said Eita. He tossed his napkin on the table and stood. “I’m going out Friday night. Saturday is better.”

“Going out?” Tendou repeated. He fished around in his wallet and tossed a handful of yen on the counter before quickly following Eita to the door. “Like, _out_ out?”

“That doesn’t even make sense.”

“Like, to a club?”

Eita’s glare brought Tendou to a solid halt just inside the doorway of the restaurant. “Yeah,” he said, “to a club. I’m going to pick some guy out of the crowd and take him home and have him fuck me senseless. Shouldn’t matter to you, right? Since you’re not interested in fucking me again.”

He turned on his heel and pushed the door open. 

Tendou let him go. 

He felt he was doing that much too often.

  
  
  
  
Tendou had never given much thought to morality in general. He’d been bullied mercilessly as a child, so if the opportunity ever arose for him to bully someone else in return, he felt no shame for it. If he could use someone to his advantage, then he would do so. If his actions caused an inconvenience for someone else, he wasn’t particularly concerned. That was the way the world worked. He’d learned that from a young age and had never seen fit to question it.

For the first time in his life, the feeling of guilt was eating him alive.

It was surprising, really. He hadn’t expected it to happen. He’d known from the beginning that leading Eita along like this was wrong, but it hadn’t bothered him much. Because really, who decided what was wrong or not, anyway? He wasn’t like Ushijima, who saw the world in black and white. Tendou’s vision was dappled with shades of gray. Nothing was really right or wrong. 

Even with his particular brand of colorblindness, he knew what he was doing to Eita was definitely wrong.

He shouldn’t have cared anyway, whether it was wrong or not. If it had been anyone else at the receiving end of his scheme then he wouldn’t have given it a second thought.

But he hadn’t lied when he said he liked Eita. He did, despite the bad attitude and the cutting stares. There was something appealing about him, and it wasn’t just that they’d slept together.

It was something about Eita as a person. Something that Tendou wanted to explore, something he wanted to learn about. 

He wasn’t going to be able to do that as long as Eita was under duress. 

He needed to come clean, but if he did that, Eita was definitely never going to speak to him again.

He could just keep up the guise a little longer. Maybe if he dragged it out long enough, Eita would decide that he liked Tendou a little bit, too.

Or maybe it would make Eita hate him even more.

“Is something on your mind?” asked Ushijima.

Tendou belatedly realized he’d been staring off in a daze. He blinked himself back into the present and looked up at Ushijima, who stared impassively back.

Tendou was in Ushijima’s office for the second time in two weeks. He was pretty sure that was a record.

This time, though, it wasn’t because Ushijima had been late for their lunch due to a phone call. 

This time they’d met at their usual spot at exactly noon and had a normal lunch. Afterwards, however, Tendou had followed Ushijima back to the office because he didn’t want to go home and sit around thinking about how wrongly he was treating Eita.

Ushijima had let Tendou lounge in his office without comment. He probably knew there was something going on with Tendou. Ushijima wasn’t particularly perceptive, but he wasn’t stupid, either.

“It’s nothing, Waka,” said Tendou airily. “Just thinking, is all.”

Ushijima made a sound of acknowledgment and returned to his work.

The click of Ushijima’s keyboard was the only sound.

Tendou lasted for forty-five seconds before he said, “Actually, Waka, can I get your advice on something?”

Ushijima stopped typing immediately. “Of course.”

Tendou took a deep breath, held it, and exhaled in a huff. He couldn’t tell Ushijima exactly what was wrong, because then he would be betraying Eita. If he was vague enough it should be okay. Ushijima wouldn’t pry for more information.

“Hypothetically speaking,” said Tendou, “say I made a deal with someone. I told them as long as they held up their end of the deal I would hold up my end, right?”

Ushijima nodded.

Tendou found it difficult to look directly at him. He looked down at his hands instead, his fingers fidgeting. “But see, the thing is, I was going to keep my end of the deal anyway, whether they kept theirs or not. But they don’t know that. They’re going out of their way to keep the deal because they think it’s the only way that I’ll keep mine. So I’m lying to them, right? But, I mean, they’re still getting what they want, too, even though it was kind of shitty for me to make the deal to begin with.”

Ushijima studied him, as serious and collected as always. In their years of friendship, Tendou hadn’t seen Ushijima lose his composure a single time.

He wondered what it was like to be that confident and self-assured.

He would probably never know.

“You have to tell them the truth,” said Ushijima. “It’s the right thing to do.”

Tendou already knew that, of course. He just didn’t want to acknowledge it.

“But he’s going to be mad,” said Tendou, dropping the hypotheticals. “Like, really mad. He’ll probably never talk to me again.”

“It sounds as if your relationship with this person is based on a lie,” said Ushijima. “Even if they do not wish to still be friends with you, it is better than continuing to live the lie. It isn’t fair to them and it isn’t fair to you.”

Tendou sighed so hard that he deflated. He slouched down in his chair and pressed his palms against his closed eyelids. “Yeah,” he mumbled. “Yeah, you’re right.”

He felt Ushijima watch him for a while longer. Then the clicking of the keyboard started again.

Tendou wished that Ushijima’s straightforward approach had rubbed off on him sometime during the past decade.

Ushijima would’ve never gotten himself into such a situation.

Tendou sprang to his feet in one fluid motion. “Where are the offices for your editing staff?”

If Ushijima was surprised by the question, he didn’t show it. The movements of his fingers across the keyboard didn’t even slow. “Two floors down.”

Tendou launched himself out of Ushijima’s office and toward the elevator beyond. He punched the ‘down’ button with urgency. If he was going to do this, he needed to do it now, before he changed his mind. Before he thought about the look on Eita’s face, or his disappointment, or…

The elevator dinged, the doors slid open, and Tendou stepped in and pressed the ‘6’ approximately fourteen times before it started moving. 

He shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans and pretended he wasn’t about to panic.

Who cared if Eita didn’t want to talk to him anymore?

Tendou had only known the guy for a week and a half.

It didn’t matter, anyway.

The elevator doors opened and Tendou stepped onto the sixth floor with the air of a man walking to the guillotine.

It wasn’t a very farfetched metaphor. The way that Eita was about to cut him down was probably very reminiscent of execution by guillotine.

Tendou wasn’t familiar with the layout of the offices. Ushijima’s was the only one he’d ever visited. 

Still, it wasn’t difficult to navigate the double row of cubicles. Name tags were posted outside each door. He strolled along at what he imagined was a casual pace, eyes dragging over the etched kanji until he found the one he sought.

He froze outside the doorway, dread dripping like cold water down the back of his neck.

Eita was seated inside his cubicle. Some of the other small offices had been sparsely decorated with photos or potted plants or little calendars.

Eita’s office was bare.

Tendou could only see his profile from that angle, but it was enough to note the quirk of his mouth and the sharp set of his eyebrows. He was concentrating on something with such intensity that he didn’t notice Tendou hovering in the doorway.

Tendou thought about just walking away. That had worked for him so far. 

He didn’t have to tell Eita now. He’d give it few more days, or another week or two. Or just until Saturday, so they could have dinner one more time. He would wait until after the meal and tell Eita then, when he might be in a better mood after good food. 

He could just wait. It would be easier.

He cleared his throat and almost took a step back when Eita’s eyes snapped up.

“Hey, Semi-Semi,” said Tendou. He tried to affect his usual tone, but it sounded weak in his ears. “Can I talk to you?”

Eita stared at him. “What are you doing here?”

Tendou shifted in the doorway. “Just for a minute. I’ll make it quick.”

Eita glanced around, as if seeking a reason to say no. 

“I won’t ask you for anything else,” said Tendou. “You don’t have to go out with me Saturday.”

That caught Eita’s attention. He raised a brow, glanced at his computer screen one last time, then stood. He slipped past Tendou and started back the way he’d come, toward the elevator. He paused at one of the neighboring cubicles and stuck his head inside. “Hey, Reon? I’m taking a quick break. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“Alright, take your time.”

Tendou barely caught a glimpse of dark skin and kind eyes before Eita was moving again, leading him back to the sixth floor lobby where they wouldn’t be overheard. Eita marched into the corner and then turned to face Tendou, his arms folded over his chest. “What is it?”

Eita didn’t look as angry as usual. His brows were still set into a half-scowl, but Tendou thought that was probably permanent. It did nothing to undermine the flawless features of his face; if anything, it only enhanced them. His cheekbones were high and sharp, his nose narrow, thin lips slightly downturned. 

Tendou thought one last time that he could just put this off again. It could wait until next week, it could wait until next _month_. Just as long as he didn’t have to do it now.

But it wasn’t right. Tendou didn’t care about morality, but he found that he was starting to care a little bit about Eita.

This wasn’t right.

“I’m not going to tell Wakatoshi,” he said in a rush. He needed to get it all out at once, like ripping off a band-aid. “I was never going to tell him. He wouldn’t care anyway. I mean, Waka is really chill, even if he doesn’t seem like it.” He realized he was getting a little sidetracked and pulled himself back. “But I wouldn’t have told him about any of it. Not even that we met, definitely not that we did anything else. I wouldn’t violate your privacy like that.”

Eita’s brow furrowed a little more, but otherwise his face didn’t change. He looked at Tendou for a long moment, thoughts passing like stormclouds behind dark eyes.

Finally, when Tendou felt as if he’d been standing in a scalding spotlight for hours, Eita spoke.

“You’re really not going to tell him.”

His voice was calm. Tendou relaxed a little. Maybe this wouldn’t be as bad as he’d expected. “No,” he said. “I’m not.”

“You were never going to tell him,” continued Eita. “Even when you made me meet you at the café and had me agree to go hang out with you. If I’d said no you still wouldn’t have told him.”

Tendou nodded. “Right.”

Eita’s eyes narrowed, gleaming like the edge of a razorblade. 

Tendou’s chest tightened with tension.

“So all this time,” said Eita, still so calmly, “you were fucking around with me for no reason, letting me think that if I breathed the wrong way you would run to Ushijima and tell him everything.”

“I, uh…” Tendou tried to think of a way to cover himself but came up empty. “Well when you put it that way it sounds kind of bad.”

“How else would you put it?”

Tendou floundered. There wasn’t really a better way to word it. Eita was spot-on.

“So you’ve been playing with me,” said Eita, “just because you can.”

“It wasn’t like that,” said Tendou, finally managing to come to his own defense. “I just wanted to hang out with you, you know?”

“Then why didn’t you just ask me out?”

Tendou’s mind went blank, a distant sound of white static fizzling in his ears. He shook it off and said, “What?”

Eita’s eyes flashed so sharply that Tendou winced. “If you wanted to go out with me, why didn’t you just ask?”

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re seriously not going to tell him?” Eita confirmed. “No matter what happens now?”

Tendou shook his head. “I’m really not. I promise.”

Eita nodded once. “Okay then.”

He turned and started back toward the cubicles. He made it four steps before Tendou spoke.

“Hey, Eita?”

He didn’t turn, but he stopped walking.

“Would you have said yes?” asked Tendou, uncertain if he really wanted to hear the answer.

“Maybe. Guess you’ll never know.”

He took two more steps.

“Eita, will you go out with me?”

This time Eita did turn. He swiveled just enough to take in Tendou with that cutting glare and a curl of his lips. “Go fuck yourself, Tendou.”

With that he was gone.

Tendou had done the right thing. 

He didn’t feel even a little bit better for it.


	3. Chapter 3

Tendou had known Semi for only a week and a half. It was a short acquaintance; inconsequential, even. All of the people in Tendou’s life that actually mattered had been around for years. Someone he’d known for a week and a half was barely a speck on his radar.

Yet, for the next month, all Tendou could think about was Semi Eita.

Semi – Tendou was only going to think of him as Semi now, because referring to him as Eita felt a little invasive – did not experience the same problem.

Tendou didn’t just give up, although he should have. He gave Semi a couple of days to cool off in the hopes that his temper would ease and he would be willing to at least listen to a proper apology. 

Their last conversation had been Thursday afternoon. Tendou didn’t try contacting Semi until Saturday, and even then he just sent a simple, friendly text.

It wasn’t returned. 

Tendou wasn’t surprised, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t disappointed.

He tried calling Semi on Sunday with similar results, sent him a good morning text on Monday, and after that decided that he was probably just being a bother and needed to stop.

The only time he heard from Semi during the entire month was exactly a week after the incident. 

He had just gotten home from his weekly lunch with Ushijima, during which their conversation had been much more lackluster than usual. Tendou found it difficult to even make jokes at their fellow customers’ expense. He was too busy trying not to think about Semi. A man at the counter had sharp eyebrows, and it reminded him of Semi. A college girl with a short ponytail was wearing a leather jacket, and it reminded him of Semi. The woman behind the counter had two-toned hair, and it reminded him of Semi.

They’d only been acquaintances for a week and a half.

_A week and a half_.

It was ridiculous.

Tendou was in his apartment, idly spinning his desk chair in circles, when the text came through. He glanced at it, and by the time his distant mind registered the identity of the sender, Tendou had almost fallen out of the chair. 

He righted himself, clutched his phone in a too-tight grip, and read the message several times in quick succession.

_Did you send these flowers?_

Tendou’s heart was in his throat as he tapped back a quick reply.

_They’re apology flowers._

The tense silence that followed made Tendou sweat. He tried not to get his hopes up, but he couldn’t help but think that maybe he’d gotten through to Semi. Maybe Semi would give him a chance to apologize again. Maybe he’d realize that Tendou really was sorry. Maybe they would live happily ever and get a house in the countryside and adopt a Shiba Inu named Sasuke.

Semi’s return text was equally as succinct as his final farewell.

_Leave me the fuck alone._

Tendou’s heart had been in his throat. Now fell back down into his chest and plummeted further, ending up somewhere in the floor near his feet.

He tossed his phone onto his desk, stared blankly at the wall, and pretended that Semi hadn’t just emotionally crippled him.

Despite his personal crisis, Tendou did as he was asked. He didn’t bother Semi anymore, by text or call or unsolicited gifts. He went about his business as if he’d never even known that Semi Eita existed. 

The hollow, raw feeling in his chest was the only proof that he had. 

He’d only known Semi for a week and a half. 

That was nothing.

It was only when Tendou submitted his weekly comics to one of Ushijima’s editors (Shirabu, he now knew, thanks to Semi) that he realized maybe he’d been affected a little more than he’d thought. He was giving his scans a last quick glance to look for any obvious mistakes. There were none, but he realized that one of his characters – the one with the pretty smile and the sharp, cutting wit – had, at some point over the last week, gotten his hair dip-dyed. The pale peaks had been sketched in with dark ink, and although Tendou knew he’d drawn it, he certainly didn’t remember doing _that_.

He frowned at the comic strips for a long while, thought about editing that detail out, and ended up submitting it anyway.

It didn’t matter. He would bet a significant amount of money that Semi didn’t read his comics anyway. Even if he had before, he certainly didn’t now.

On Thursday he went out to lunch with Ushijima, as usual. It was four weeks after he’d decided to do the right thing and subsequently invited misery into his life.

He hadn’t mentioned anything to Ushijima, despite his status as Tendou’s best friend. Tendou had been serious about keeping Semi’s confidentiality, and even now, when he knew Semi was never going to speak to him again either way, he wasn’t going to go back on his word.

Despite his silence on the matter, Ushijima knew something was wrong.

He must have known that something really bad was wrong, because he agreed to go to the Slaughterhouse for lunch without so much as a single protest.

Ushijima picked at his food, inspecting every bite for quality before he allowed it to enter his mouth. 

“Tendou?” he asked, when he’d prodded his way through an inspection of about half of his meal. “Is there anything you’d like to talk about?”

Tendou slurped up a noodle and considered him. “Like what?”

“Whatever is making you unhappy,” said Ushijima. He abandoned his chopsticks and focused his attention on Tendou. “It distresses me to see you like this. Can I do anything?”

Tendou peeled his gaze away from Ushijima and stared down at the soupy remains of his ramen. Something burned in his chest, an onslaught of emotion that threatened to climb up his throat and scald the backs of his eyes. He fought it down and managed to contain it, but it persisted as a dull ache.

He hadn’t thought he was acting all that differently. He was trying to behave normally, at least. He’d greeted Ushijima with a jab about the stiffness of his business suit, boasting of his own work attire of jeans and tacky t-shirts. It was a very Tendou thing to say. 

He wondered what his face must look like when he wasn’t paying attention to it. If even Ushijima noticed, he must have looked more miserable than he’d imagined. 

“Everything’s okay, Waka,” he said. He only had to lie a little to say it. Things weren’t quite okay, but they would be.

His acquaintance with Semi Eita had only lasted for a week and a half.

This would pass soon.

Ushijima studied him, a rare touch of concern softening his stolid expression. “You know if you ever need anything,” he said, “I am here. You just have to ask.”

Tendou hitched a smile onto his face. It was lopsided and felt half-forced, but that only meant that it was half-genuine, too. “Thanks, Waka. Everyone says you don’t have feelings, but I knew they were wrong.”

Ushijima’s eyebrows tucked back together. “Who says that?”

Tendou’s grin became a little more real, and he felt lighter.

  
  
  
  
When the weekend came, Tendou decided he was over it.

It was an easy decision to make, but a little more difficult to enforce. 

To prove it to himself, he decided to go back to the same club at which he’d met Semi. There were always lots of pretty boys there. Tendou had never gone with the express intention of picking anyone up – Semi had been the one to speak first, or Tendou never would have dared approach him – but he thought if he put his mind to it, he could achieve a successful evening.

There were always lots of pretty boys at the club, and that night was no exception.

None of them were as pretty as Semi, but no one was, really.

Tendou sat atop a stool at the bar, sipping a mixed drink and eyeing the crowd of people that remained half-shadowed by the low lights. This was one of Tendou’s favorite clubs. It was a little sketchy on occasion, depending on the time of night, but Tendou thought that only gave it character. There was always someone interesting to watch, which was what Tendou tended to do when he wasn’t harassing muscle-bound assholes. 

He tapped the heel of his sneaker against the stool, humming along with the thrum of the music as he scanned a cluster of exceptionally excited college kids. They jumped up and down in time with the beat, clearly drunker than they should have been at only ten o’clock.

That was the joy of youth, Tendou supposed. He still appreciated the need to get plastered occasionally, but he liked to think he didn’t express the loud, ignorant exuberance of the younger generation.

These days he tended to get half-drunk in public, then go home and finish the job in private. 

Waking up in the gutter just didn’t hold the same appeal as it used to.

He took another drink of his gin and tonic – only his second one of the night, to avoid the aforementioned gutter – and looked away from the raucous college kids. He was there to prove a point to himself, not to settle for someone so drunk off their ass that they probably couldn’t even see Tendou clearly.

He was going to take someone home. 

The entire issue with Semi was that he was a glowing oasis in the midst of a harsh dry spell. It wasn’t Semi himself; it was just the situation.

It wasn’t that Semi was so radiant that it burned Tendou’s eyes. It wasn’t that Semi had a quiet intensity that kept Tendou on his toes, or that Semi’s sharp smile sent unhealthy flutters straight to Tendou’s gut.

It wasn’t anything to do with Semi at all. It was all circumstantial.

So if Tendou picked up someone else, he would be fixed.

He finished his drink and tried his best to believe his own lie. 

Near the college kids was a loose group of slightly older individuals who were enjoying the evening in a more contained fashion. They swayed with the music, drinks in hand, talking and laughing amongst themselves with nudges and smiles and warm familiarity.

A few of them were decent-looking, and Tendou singled one of them out. He had dark hair, a wide smile, and from that distance he appeared to be of average height. His hair was neat, shoulders relaxed, posture comfortable. He looked nice, like the kind of guy who volunteered at the animal shelter on the weekends and called to check in with his mother every morning.

Tendou wasn’t all that interested, but he hadn’t spotted any better prospects, either. At least this guy was attractive. Tendou could iron over the other details fairly easily.

He flagged down the bartender and requested another drink. He’d need one in his hand before he approached the group, to blend in with the crowd. 

This wasn’t going to be difficult. Tendou could do this.

As he waited for his drink, he continued to watch the man. 

He smiled a lot, so much that it was almost disconcerting. He was almost too easy with his smiles, like he was giving them away for free.

Tendou was almost a little disappointed that he wasn’t even going to have to work for a smile. The man would probably grin as soon as Tendou walked up to introduce himself, even if only out of politeness.

Tendou nodded at the bartender in thanks and took a short sip of his drink, bracing himself for the encounter.

It wasn’t the first time he’d done this. It would be fine. It would make him forget all about Semi Eita, and it would be fine.

He took one last scan of the club to make sure he’d picked out the best possible candidate. 

That was a mistake.

His eyes flickered over him at first, almost missing him in the thick of the crowd. It wasn’t his face or his posture that caught Tendou’s attention, but the jacket. It was worn black leather settled on a pair of strong shoulders, and Tendou couldn’t see from his position, but he knew Semi was wearing leather boots to match.

Semi turned to the side, head tilted as he tried to catch whatever the man beside him was saying in his ear. His hair was artfully tousled, the ends dark even in the shadows of the club, as if they’d been freshly dyed. 

When the man pulled back, Semi tilted his face up. He nodded and smiled.

Tendou’s gut twisted. Not because Semi was smiling at a stranger, but because he knew that smile wasn’t real. It was too bland. If Semi really smiled it would be as sharp as his eyes. 

Even from across the club Tendou could see how flat Semi’s face was. There was no real expression. It was pasted on, and Tendou wondered if Semi had been that false the first night they’d met. He hadn’t thought so, but maybe that was because he hadn’t known anything about Semi at the time. 

Semi’s companion slipped through the crowd, and Semi followed a step behind. Tendou thought they were holding hands, but when they reached a break in the press of bodies Tendou saw that Semi was holding onto the man’s sleeve, just shy of skin contact.

Tendou’s mouth was dry. He tipped his drink back, but it didn’t help.

Semi and his companion approached the door of the club, clearly intending to leave. Tendou pretended not to know where they were going, pretended not to know what would happen when they got there.

The door opened, the man stepped out, and Semi paused in the doorway.

He turned to look over his shoulder, and his eyes met Tendou’s for a flash of a second. Tendou’s breath caught in his throat, and despite the pounding of the club’s music, the only thing he could hear was his own heartbeat thundering in his ears.

Semi looked at him. Then he turned and left the club, the door swinging shut behind him.

Tendou stared longer than was necessary, hoping against all odds that Semi would change his mind and come back.

Three drinks later, Tendou finally admitted to himself that Semi wasn’t coming back.

He went home alone.

  
  
  
  
Semi had moved on. Well, that wasn’t entirely accurate. There had never been anything between Tendou and Semi, therefore he’d never had anything to move on from.

Since that was true, Tendou wondered why forgetting about Semi was so impossibly difficult.

The club incident didn’t help. In fact, it intensified his emotional concoction of guilt and want and loneliness tenfold. 

He tried not to think about it, because thinking about it didn’t do any good. He told himself that he just needed to try his plan again, only this time he was going to follow through.

He made it through the week, and he must have done it with aplomb, because Ushijima only asked six times if he was okay as compared to the prior week’s ten.

On Saturday night he went to the club again. He could have chosen a different one; there were more clubs than he could ever visit within the recesses of Tokyo. 

Still he returned to the same one, told himself it was because he was more comfortable there, and refused to admit that he was hanging onto the possibility of running into Semi again.

The purpose of going to the club was to pick up a man. Tendou knew that. It had been the purpose last week, too, until he got sidetracked.

This time, though, he didn’t even try to choose a prospective mate from the crowd. He simply combed through the people, looking for a familiar flash of sharp eyes or a sheen of pale hair or the stretch of leather across broad shoulders.

By the time he found those things, an hour and a half after he’d arrived, Semi had already hooked another stranger and was leading him to the exit.

Again he paused and looked back at Tendou before leaving the club.

Tendou felt the sharpness of those eyes like a knife, slicing straight through his chest.

He should have pushed it aside and searched for company of his own.

Instead he ordered another drink and tried to wash away the thought of what Semi was currently doing with the tall, handsome stranger.

  
  
  
  
The next week he returned, and the next, and Tendou knew he was pathetic. He didn’t bother denying it. Deep down he must have been a masochist, because even though it caused him near physical pain every time he watched Semi leave with someone, he couldn’t stop coming back.

He couldn’t figure out why he was doing it to himself. He’d given up on the pretense of finding someone to take home after the second time he’d been there. He didn’t even give himself a reason anymore. On Saturday night he just went to the club, because he knew Semi would be there, if only for a minute.

A minute was all it took for someone like Semi Eita to have his pick of the flock. Semi was perfect; no one was going to turn him down. 

Every single time he gave Tendou that look, the one that cut him wide open.

Every single time Tendou pretended that Semi might change his mind and come back.

Every single time he left, and Tendou didn’t see him again until the following Saturday.

On the fifth week of this routine, Tendou ordered a refill of his usual drink and wondered exactly how long he was going to keep torturing himself like this.

He’d considered telling Ushijima about it. He would leave out the part about Semi’s identity, of course, because Tendou had promised. Tendou could tell him everything else, though. He could tell him how absolutely pathetic he was, and hope that Ushijima would step in and do something about it. 

He’d thought about it, but knew he would never act on it.

Ushijima would prevent him from returning to the club, and it would be for his own good.

Still, if he didn’t come back, Tendou wouldn’t see Semi again. 

When Semi left, he would turn back to look at Tendou with those razor-sharp eyes, and Tendou wouldn’t be there.

Tendou was certain that Semi couldn’t care less either way, but that didn’t matter. Tendou was going to be there, just in case Semi ever changed his mind and walked back through that door.

Five weeks after Tendou started this agonizing routine, something changed.

He sat at his usual spot, ordered his usual drink, and was served by the usual bartender. He kept to himself as he drank, as usual, and idly watched the crowd for the first sign of Semi. Typically he didn’t show up until around ten, but Tendou was always there a little earlier, just in case.

The clock struck ten, and there was no sign of Semi. Another half hour passed, and then another, and soon it was nearly midnight and Tendou still hadn’t spotted him.

He was only on his third drink. His alcohol intake always remained light until the Semi sighting, after which point he had a difficult time stopping. He barely felt the buzz, and whatever good mood others enjoyed from drinking was nowhere to be found for Tendou.

Tendou realized, with an aching, sinking feeling, that he was disappointed.

He was disappointed that he hadn’t watched the man he couldn’t stop thinking about pick up his entertainment for the night. He was disappointed that he hadn’t seen Semi take home someone else to fuck.

Tendou was more pathetic than he’d originally thought.

He couldn’t come back to this club.

He threw back the rest of his drink and slapped the glass against the table. The bartender raised a brow at him, a silent question. Tendou shook his head and tossed his credit card onto the bar. The wordless exchange was familiar.

Tendou’s card was returned a moment later. He slipped it back in his wallet, swiveled on his stool to leave, but froze before his toes touched the ground.

The stool beside him, which had been empty for the past half hour, was no longer vacant.

That in itself wasn’t a problem. People came and went constantly. He couldn’t remember everyone who’d sat beside him that night, with whom he’d pointedly avoided conversation.

Someone sitting beside him wouldn’t have been a problem, if that someone hadn’t been Semi Eita.

Tendou stared at him, rendered mute by shock.

He hadn’t been this close to Semi in over a month. Watching him from across the club was one thing, but being able to smell the crisp leather of his jacket and see the dark smudge of his eyeliner was something else entirely.

Semi barely glanced at him. He tossed back a shot, jaw tensing as the burn hit the back of his throat. 

Tendou thought maybe it was just a coincidence that Semi was sitting beside him. Maybe Semi had wanted a drink, and it was the only seat left.

He glanced to his right. At least three other stools were vacant, and none of them were near Tendou.

He looked back to Semi and found those dark, cutting eyes looking back.

Semi’s jaw moved. He was probably sucking alcohol off of his teeth.

After a long bout of staring, just when Tendou thought he was going to suffer permanent damage from the way Semi’s stare made his heart ricochet, Semi spoke.

“Come home with me,” he said in that voice of smoke and glass that Tendou had thought of more often than he cared to admit.

Tendou wasn’t stupid. He knew what the invitation meant, and he also knew that what was to follow would mean nothing.

But maybe Semi would want to talk, too. Maybe he would give Tendou a chance to offer a better apology. Maybe he would entertain the idea of accepting that apology, of accepting Tendou. Maybe this was his way of trying to patch things up between them, to give Tendou a chance.

Tendou wasn’t stupid, but he allowed himself to hope for these things anyway.

“Okay.”


	4. Chapter 4

The first time they’d met, the walk to Semi’s apartment had been filled with idle conversation, a touch of nerves, and the weight of expectation.

This time Tendou was so anxious that he couldn’t stack enough words together to build a sentence. 

He kept glancing sideways at Semi, as if to convince himself that he was still there. If Semi noticed, he didn’t acknowledge it. He walked with his face forward, hands in the pockets of his leather jacket, posture confident.

He looked the opposite of the way Tendou felt.

He looked beautiful.

Tendou knew he should say something, but he didn’t know what that something was. An apology, probably; a better one than he’d offered before. Semi needed to know how awful Tendou felt about the entire situation, about how the guilt had eaten him away like a parasite.

Semi needed to know how often and brightly Tendou thought of him, and how much Tendou regretted the way he’d treated him, and how desperate Tendou was to make it up to him.

Semi needed to know all of these things, but Tendou kept them to himself and walked along in silence.

He was afraid that a single wrong word would set Semi off, and maybe this time he would disappear for good.

So Tendou kept his mouth shut and followed Semi into his apartment, mimicking him as he toed off his shoes, hovering awkwardly in the doorway as he waited for any indication of what Semi wanted from him.

Maybe Semi only wanted to lure him away from the public eye so he could berate Tendou properly. Maybe Semi wanted to scream, to demean, to hurt Tendou in a semblance of the way that Tendou must have hurt him.

Tendou wouldn’t resist. He would let Semi do whatever he wanted with him.

Semi moved through the apartment without looking back. Tendou assumed he was supposed to follow, and did so after a moment of hesitation.

Semi led him to the bedroom, and Tendou’s heart lurched.

“Sit down,” said Semi. It was the first time he’d spoken since they’d left the club. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

After a quick glance around the room, Tendou did as he was told. He perched on the edge of the bed and watched Semi dig through a dresser drawer, emerging with a bottle of lube tucked in his fist. 

Tendou’s mouth was dry as Semi stepped into the adjoining bathroom and closed the door.

He tried to swallow, but his throat was full of sand. The bedsheet was smooth beneath his fingers as he pressed his palms into the mattress and started counting his breaths.

His heart tripped along too quickly, stuttering in his chest with the same unsteadiness as his trembling fingers. 

Tendou had only a vague recollection of Semi’s bedroom. The last time he’d been there the interior of the room had been the last thing on his mind. While he tried to keep himself calm enough to avoid cardiac arrest, he took inventory of the small space. It was mostly undecorated, much like Semi’s office. There was a bed, a dresser, a small desk, and not much else. The walls were bare of decoration. The desk was empty, too, except for a laptop, a folder, and a small scatter of dried flowers that looked out of place amidst the barren atmosphere.

Tendou squinted at them and almost stood up to take a closer look, but the sound of running water from beyond the bathroom door froze him back in place.

The sound ended quickly. He assumed it had been the sink.

Shortly after, when the door finally reopened, Semi was silhouetted against the bright bathroom light, stripped down to his underwear.

The glowing halo flickered out when Semi flipped off the lights. He entered the bedroom and stood in the middle of the floor, arms folded, unbothered by his state of near nudity.

“Take your clothes off,” he said, not quite looking at Tendou.

Tendou managed to swallow some of the sand in his throat. “Semi, listen,” he said, voice a little scratchy. “I-”

“Don’t talk.” Semi’s barbed tone shut him down easily. “Take your clothes off.”

Tendou swallowed again and then relented. He shrugged his jacket off and dropped it in a wrinkled pile at the foot of the bed. His fingers caught at the hem of his shirt and he pulled it over his head, eyeing Semi as soon as he’d emerged from the press of fabric against his face. 

Semi still wasn’t looking at him. His eyes were focused somewhere on the floor, near the growing pile of Tendou’s clothing.

Tendou had wanted Semi, but he didn’t want him like this.

“Semi, please. I just-”

“ _Don’t talk_.” This time the words were harder, the edges jagged. 

Tendou swallowed down his faltering apology and stood to unbutton his jeans. 

He should have left. That probably would have been the right thing to do. He didn’t know why Semi wanted him here, or what he was trying to accomplish. 

What he did know was that he was about to suffocate on the tension that hung in the air between them, thicker than any fog Tendou had ever seen.

There was the scratch of a zipper and then Tendou’s pants pooled about his ankles. He stepped out of them carefully, staggering only a little. He toed them over to join the rest of his clothes and then waited awkwardly, hands clasped in front of him, the first hint of a flush dusting his face.

“You’re not finished,” said Semi. His gaze was still somewhere on the back wall; distant, impersonal.

“You’re still wearing underwear, too,” mumbled Tendou. His eyes skated across Semi quickly, then he was watching the floor again.

Semi hooked a thumb in the band of his own boxers and yanked them down. He stepped out of them and turned to fish through the dresser drawer again.

The flush on Tendou’s face spread, burning like a wildfire. With Semi’s back turned he found it easier to slip out of his own underwear, though he still felt so awkward he wasn’t certain he would even be capable of having sex under these conditions.

He caught a blur of motion from the corner of his eye and caught the lube out of reflex, right before it smacked him in the face. A condom was tossed, too, but it landed near the edge of the bed.

Semi moved past him, his bare skin glowing in the low light. He crawled onto the bed and stretched out on his stomach, propping up slightly on his elbows.

When Tendou didn’t move, Semi looked over his shoulder. His eyes were as sharp as broken glass. “Well?”

Tendou’s fingers tightened around the lube. If the cap had been open it would have squirted all over his hand. “I, uh… I don’t think I can…”

Semi’s gaze dipped down, to Tendou’s obvious lack of arousal. Semi sighed and rolled over, crossing his legs as he sat up. “Come here.”

Tendou still thought leaving was the best idea.

Regardless, he crawled onto the bed and settled in front of Semi, sitting back on his heels, the lube clutched in his hand like a lifeline.

“Lay down.”

Tendou hesitated, but ultimately he obeyed that order, too.

Semi wormed his way between Tendou’s knees, kneeling to study Tendou with distinct detachment.

Then he lowered himself, sucked all of Tendou into his mouth at once, and barely dodged the violent twitch of Tendou’s knee that would have slammed into his temple.

Semi glared up at him. Tendou was propped on his elbows, quivering from the sudden, unexpected contact.

“Be still.”

“You didn’t warn me,” said Tendou, wrapping the accusation in the tone of an apology.

“The fuck did you think I was going to do? Be still.”

Tendou sucked in a breath and did as he was told. Semi watched him for a moment, as if to make sure he was going to comply. Then he again ducked his head and wrapped his mouth around Tendou. 

Considering the atmospheric discomfort, it took a surprisingly short time for Semi to work Tendou to hardness with his hands and lips and tongue. 

Tendou’s chest rose and fell quickly as he watched Semi, who performed the duty with efficiency. 

When he pulled off, he didn’t even look at Tendou. He reached for the discarded condom, tossed it onto Tendou’s chest, and again flipped onto his stomach. 

Tendou sat up shakily, the suddenness of his arousal leaving him a little dizzy. 

“Semi?” he said, the word weak. “Do you-?”

“I’m ready,” said Semi. “Hurry the fuck up.”

Tendou let himself look, eyes sweeping the lean lines and curves and edges of Semi’s body.

He hadn’t become any less perfect since the last time Tendou had seen him like this.

“Are you sure-”

“Either fuck me or get out,” said Semi. “Your choice.”

Tendou should have chosen the second option. This wasn’t what he wanted, and he had no way to tell if it was really what Semi wanted, either, since he wouldn’t let Tendou finish a full sentence. 

It wasn’t the same as a drunken mistake. Neither of them were intoxicated to the point of impairment. Neither of them would wake up the following morning and be unable to remember what had happened.

Despite his sobriety, Tendou still felt his decision-making ability was compromised. He couldn’t act objectively with Semi splayed out in front of him like a work of living art. He couldn’t take the time to muddle through his tangled thoughts when Semi had just sucked him to throbbing hardness. 

He should have chosen the second option, and he knew it, and he still found himself ripping open the foil and rolling on the condom.

The lube was cold even through the latex. He spread it over himself and moved closer to Semi, who didn’t even twitch as Tendou maneuvered to hover over him.

“You sure you’re ready?” asked Tendou. He said the words quickly, so Semi wouldn’t have the chance to interrupt him again.

Semi slid a flat look over his shoulder. It was answer enough.

Tendou bit his lip and aligned himself. He gripped just below Semi’s waist with one hand, his long fingers wrapping easily around Semi’s hip. Semi wriggled a little beneath the contact, but didn’t protest.

Slowly Tendou pressed in, easing past minimal resistance. He was only in about halfway before Semi grew impatient and bucked his hips back, sinking onto Tendou completely.

A muffled sound that was almost pained spilled from Tendou’s lips, falling loudly into the heavy atmosphere.

“I said I’m ready,” said Semi. Tendou couldn’t see his face, but it sounded like the words were forced between gritted teeth. “Move.”

Tendou was reluctant, but Semi rolled back against him again and the friction sparked hot embers beneath Tendou’s skin.

He slid out and then thrust forward, and though the squeeze was a little too tight, the half-moan it dragged out of Semi was worth it.

He started a rhythm, one hand gripping each of Semi’s hips, Semi on his knees and elbows with his head bowed.

Tendou looked at the firm line of Semi’s shoulders, focused on the tight heat pressing around him, and tried to pretend that the last few weeks hadn’t happened at all.

It was surprisingly easy, especially when Semi started pushing back to meet Tendou’s thrusts. His fingers were curled around double handfuls of bedsheets, broken sounds dribbling from his mouth.

Tendou smoothed a hand up Semi’s side, memorizing the texture of Semi’s skin against his palm. He ran his fingers along the dip of Semi’s lower back and moved up along the length of his spine, just _feeling_.

When Tendou’s hand reached the midway point between his shoulderblades, Semi half-collapsed beneath him. His chest and face were pressed against the mattress, hips still in the air.

“Hold me down,” said Semi, the words muffled. 

Tendou’s rhythm stuttered to a stop. “Semi.”

“Do it,” Semi snapped. “And fuck me harder. I can barely fucking feel it.”

The aggression was forced; even with his senses altered by arousal, Tendou knew that. Beneath the faux anger lurked shadowed desperation. 

Tendou wanted to protest, but knew it would be a waste of time, just as it had been the last time they were in this situation. 

He pressed between Semi’s shoulderblades, forcing him down further against the mattress, and Semi twitched beneath him. A strangled moan announced Semi’s approval.

Tendou adjusted his grip on Semi’s hip and started thrusting harder.

Semi’s hands dug into the sheets like claws. He turned his face slightly and muffled his moans into a mouthful of mattress. Despite his attempt to mute them, Tendou heard every obscene sound that left Semi’s mouth, and it made him _burn_.

Semi emerged just long enough to bark another order. “Pull my hair,” he said, the words punctuated by Tendou’s thrusts. 

Tendou didn’t bother arguing. He leaned over Semi, one hand still planted on his back, keeping him in place. His free fingers threaded through the pale locks of Semi’s hair, silky against his knuckles. 

He wanted to run his fingers through Semi’s hair and inhale the scent of Semi’s shampoo.

Instead he twisted his fingers into a fist and pulled, just barely.

Semi’s back arched as much as possible with Tendou’s weight still bearing down on him. He choked out a cry that was half-moan, half- sob. 

“ _Fuck_ ,” hissed Semi. “Pull it harder, fuck me harder, just do it _harder_!”

Tendou closed his eyes and did as he was told.

He slammed into Semi so hard that the impact stung. He pounded into him again and again, throwing all of his force behind the thrusts. Then he yanked on Semi’s hair so hard that Semi threw his head back with a yelp. 

“ _Yes_ ,” hissed Semi, before Tendou could stop. Semi snaked a hand under himself. The lean muscles of his arm flexed beneath his skin as he started pumping. “Fuck, yes, like that, fuck, _fuck_!”

Tendou gave a particularly powerful thrust and Semi shuddered beneath him, his voice breaking halfway through a moan as he came, squeezing Tendou in hot, tight convulsions.

Tendou let Semi’s hair slide through his fingers. He returned both of his hands to Semi’s hips and thrust once, twice, three more times before he was coming, tripping over the edge with Semi’s voice ringing in his ears and the texture of Semi’s skin beneath his palms.

He pulled out and flopped to the side, panting loudly into the quiet room, rubbing a hand over his sweat-slick forehead.

Semi stirred after only a handful of seconds. He dragged himself upright and almost managed to hide his wince. 

Tendou saw it, though.

Semi stood and unsteadily crossed the room. Tendou knew what he was going to say before he even opened his mouth.

“I’m going to take a shower,” said Semi. His back was to Tendou and he didn’t bother looking at him. “You can leave.”

Semi stepped onto the tile, flipped the lights on, and shut the door. A moment later the sound of running water leaked into the bedroom. 

Tendou remained sprawled on the bed. Eventually his breathing slowed, but his thoughts did not.

He pushed himself up and avoided the mess Semi had made as he crawled to the edge of the mattress. He found a box of tissues on the dresser. Semi would probably get mad if Tendou used them, but he plucked a couple out of the box anyway. He cleaned himself off as well as he could and disposed of the tissues and the condom in the small trash can. As he started to turn away, the scatter of dried flowers beside Semi’s laptop caught his eye. They appeared to be carnations. The type of flower wasn’t all that uncommon. What caught Tendou’s attention, and made him pause on his way to retrieve his clothes, was that the carnations were a shade of pale lavender.

When Tendou had sent the arrangement of flowers to Semi’s office, he’d requested that the note be left blank. He was afraid some of Semi’s coworkers might peek at the name of the sender, discover it was Tendou, and then tease Semi for it. He’d sent them anonymously, but Semi had still known where they’d come from.

Tendou hadn’t wanted to order roses, because that was too formal and a little too cliché. He’d chosen a selection of spring flowers, and the most perfect blooms among them had been lavender carnations. 

He stared at the flowers for a while. It was longer than he should have stayed, but the continued spray of the shower indicated he had a little more time.

Eventually he redressed and stood indecisively in the middle of Semi’s bedroom floor, unsure what he was supposed to do. 

No, that wasn’t quite true. He was supposed to leave. That much was obvious. Semi didn’t want him there. Semi had never wanted him there. Tendou was just a warm body to fill Semi’s bed for a little while. The only reason Tendou had even been invited was probably because Semi couldn’t find anyone better on that particular night.

Although he certainly hadn’t had any trouble for the past five weeks.

The sound of the shower died away. Tendou went still, bare feet frozen mid-step as he halted his pacing.

He couldn’t just leave. Not after all the hours he’d spent thinking about Semi, about what he’d say to him if he only had the chance.

This might be the last time he ever saw Semi, or at least the last time that Semi let him get close enough to speak.

He had to do this now. He at least had to try.

Tendou inhaled, held the breath in his lungs, and drifted over to the bathroom door. He wasn’t going to just lurk around in Semi’s bedroom until he emerged. Tendou had been called creepy, but he wasn’t quite _that_ creepy.

He knocked on the door, a light rap of knuckles. “Semi?”

There had been a rustling sound from inside, presumably the sound of a towel against skin.

When Tendou spoke, everything beyond the door went deathly quiet.

There was a pause that felt like an hour, though it was probably only a few seconds. Tendou counted the beat of his own nervous heart and reached eleven.

“I told you to leave,” said Semi. His voice was dulled by the door, but still needle-sharp.

“I need to talk to you,” said Tendou. “Just for a minute. Please.”

“Go home, Tendou.”

“I will after you talk to me.”

There was another pause, fifteen more heartbeats. These were a little faster, though, so Tendou’s unit of measurement may have been skewed.

Then there was movement within, just before the door was wrenched open.

A towel was tied around Semi’s waist. His hair was wet against his forehead and the back of his neck, dripping clear trails of water down his chest and shoulders.

If there had been less stinging anger in Semi’s eyes, Tendou would have stared.

“Talk,” said Semi, the word clipped.

Tendou swallowed past the lump in his throat.

“I know you’re still mad at me,” said Tendou, “but I-”

“I’m not mad,” said Semi, cutting him short. “I would have to care to be mad. And I don’t care. I couldn’t fucking care less.”

The heat in his eyes suggested that wasn’t entirely true.

“Semi, please.” Tendou itched to move closer, but knew that was the worst thing he could do. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have tried to manipulate you like that. It was just the only way I thought I could convince you to spend time with me. That doesn’t make it okay or anything, I know it doesn’t, I just…”

He trailed off, so frustrated that he could scream. He’d practiced his apology a thousand times, and now that he got the chance to present it none of the words would fit together.

“I just… I’m sorry, Semi.”

Semi just looked at him. Then he stepped back and slammed the door.

Tendou flung a hand out and stopped it just before it swung shut. Semi looked startled and the heat in his eyes flickered. 

Then he only looked more furious.

“You talked,” spat Semi. The words dripped with venom. “Now get the fuck out.”

“Just wait,” said Tendou. He kept a palm flat against the door, in case Semi tried to close it again. “Let me finish.”

“Or what?” said Semi. He yanked the door open a little wider and Tendou almost lost his balance. “Let you talk, or you’ll threaten me again? Let you talk, or you’ll tell Ushijima I’m six kinds of fucked up and ruin my career?”

Tendou shook his head, so quickly that the room spun. “No, I didn’t say that, I wouldn’t-”

“Go tell him,” said Semi. The words were the crackle of an open flame, his glare a wildfire. “Go tell him we fucked. Go tell him what kind of fucked up shit I like. Go tell him I’m a fucking slut. I don’t care anymore. I just don’t fucking care.”

Semi slammed the door again. This time Tendou was too startled to resist.

The palm of his hand tingled from the impact of the door. He’d still been touching it. Tendou stared down at his fingers and then let his arm fall limply to his side. He felt strange, a little empty, even. The hollowness was like an echo in his chest, making his own heartbeat feel out of place.

“Eita?” he said. He realized how quietly he was speaking and raised his voice. “Eita, is that… Is that really what you think about yourself?”

There was silence from beyond the door. Tendou pressed a hand against it again, as if the contact would give him insight to the other side.

“That’s not true,” said Tendou. The echo in his chest deepened, reverberated into something that was almost pain. “Eita, that’s not true. You’re not a… you’re not anything like that. Don’t say that about yourself.”

“Go away, Tendou.”

The words were sharp, as always, but they weren’t as hot. It was like they’d been dipped in chilled water and the edges had cooled. 

“I just want to talk to you.”

“You already talked.”

“I’m not finished.”

“Look, I’m over it, okay?” said Semi, words still clear through the door. “I don’t care about what you did. It’s done. I’m not mad. You can stop feeling guilty or whatever. You’re done. Just go.”

“I’m not done,” said Tendou. “It’s not just about that.”

“What’s it about, then?”

“It’s about you,” said Tendou. He leaned so close that his forehead thumped against the door. “I want to talk to you. Not just right now, but like tomorrow, and the next day, and next week. Can’t we at least be friends or something?”

“Friends?” scoffed Semi. Tendou knew his eyes were narrowed, even though he couldn’t see him. “Don’t be polite about it. If you want to fuck me again just say so.”

Tendou’s fingers curled against the door, his hand balling into a frustrated fist. “This isn’t about sex,” he said. “It’s about _you_ , Eita. It’s just about you.”

Tendou shouldn’t have followed Semi home. He shouldn’t have had sex with him. It only made things worse, only made Semi’s false beliefs about himself more concrete.

If Tendou wasn’t so stupid, he would have known.

If Tendou had known, he wouldn’t have done it.

The door opened without warning and Tendou gripped the doorframe to keep from toppling forward.

Semi looked up at him with narrowed eyes, face blank of everything except for edged suspicion. “What about me?”

“I like you,” said Tendou. The words were out before he could plan them, before he could stop them. “Go out with me.”

“I already said if you want to fuck me again-”

“No,” said Tendou, the abrupt denial cutting Semi short. “I don’t mean like that. I just want to go out. We can get coffee or dinner or something, whatever you want. Just one time, and if you never want to see me again after that I’ll leave you alone for good. I swear.”

Semi’s face didn’t change. He squinted at Tendou as if looking for something hiding in the depths of his expression. “What if I say no?”

“Then I’ll be disappointed.”

“Are you going to run to Ushijima?”

“No. I told you I’m not going to do that.”

“You might change your mind.”

“I won’t. It doesn’t matter what happens. I’m not going to tell him anything.”

They stared at one another for a long moment, Tendou earnest, Semi skeptical.

“If I agree,” said Semi, “will you really leave me the fuck alone?”

Tendou tried not to fidget beneath his stare. “If that’s what you want.”

Semi’s gaze lingered. Then he looked away with a scowl. “Fine. One date, but that’s it.”

“Okay,” said Tendou. He tried not to get too excited. It wasn’t as if Semi was actually pleased about going out with him. Tendou had simply worn him down.

But he would take a victory where he could get it.

“Now get out,” said Semi.

Tendou stumbled back a step, started to leave, then turned back toward the bathroom door. “Can I text you?”

“I guess you’ll have to,” said Semi. “Text me Friday. We’ll go out then.”

“Okay,” said Tendou. “Friday. Right.”

“Leave.”

“Leaving,” said Tendou, backpedaling toward the door. Before he passed through he took one last, lingering look at Semi, who still dripped clean water in the bathroom doorway. “Bye, Semi-Semi.”

Semi’s scowl deepened, and Tendou managed to smile a little as he left the apartment.


	5. Chapter 5

Tendou told himself he shouldn’t get too excited. It wasn’t as if Semi was actually eager to go out with him. Semi had only agreed to the date in order to appease him. Once it was over, Semi would probably live the rest of his life without any inclination to see Tendou again.

Tendou shouldn’t get too excited, but he’d never been good at reigning in his emotions.

“You seem… chipper,” said Ushijima after a pause. That clearly wasn’t the word he was looking for, but he settled.

“Oh?” said Tendou. He tapped a chopstick against his lower lip and looked upward in thought. “I suppose I am feeling chipper. How are you feeling, Waka?”

They were at their usual Thursday afternoon haunt. Ushijima had refused to go back to the Slaughterhouse, and Tendou suspected that he’d never be able to convince him to set foot back inside that establishment again, no matter what sort of acute personal crisis Tendou experienced.

Ushijima eyed him with a touch of wariness, as if he was dealing with a wild animal. “I feel well.”

“Great!” said Tendou. “You look well. Very healthy and robust.”

Tendou shoved a bite of rice into his mouth and chewed happily.

Ushijima still stared. He looked like he was waiting for Tendou to combust, and perhaps he was. “You’ve been in a rut for the past month. What’s gotten you in such a good mood?”

“Do I need a reason to be in a good mood?”

“Yes.”

Tendou grinned at him. “Well if you must know, I have a date tomorrow.”

Ushijima’s eyebrows rose an infinitesimal amount. “A date? With another person?”

Tendou rolled his eyes. “Of course, Waka. That’s what a date is.”

“Who is it with?”

“You don’t know him,” said Tendou airily, waving off the question as he took another bite. Through a mouthful of rice he said, “He’s really cool, though. You’d probably like him.”

“Where are you going?”

Tendou tilted his head. “I was thinking of taking him to the Slaughterhouse for ramen. What do you think?”

Ushijima looked pained. “Please don’t.”

Tendou laughed, more loudly and brightly than he’d done in the past month. “I’m joking. I’m going to take him somewhere nice. We’ll figure it out tomorrow.”

“Good luck,” said Ushijima solemnly. “I know things like this are important to you.”

By “things”, Ushijima meant relationships in general. In all the years they’d known each other, Tendou had never seen Ushijima go on a date or even express interest in anyone. He was pretty sure Ushijima wasn’t capable of being interested in anyone, but he’d never brought it up. He knew the conversation would only make Ushijima uncomfortable.

“Thanks, Waka,” said Tendou. “I’ll let you know how it goes. In extreme detail.”

Ushijima closed his eyes in a grimace. “That isn’t necessary.”

Tendou cackled, and half of the restaurant turned to stare.

That only made him laugh more loudly.

  
  
  
  
When Tendou texted Semi on Friday, as he’d been instructed, the replies he received were extremely brief.

_Sure_.

Tendou stared at the single word for five minutes too long, trying to draw out some sort of context that didn’t exist. 

Tendou had messaged Semi a restaurant suggestion. He’d expected some sort of input, an indication of like or dislike.

Instead he got _sure_.

Tendou didn’t know if Semi was agreeing because he was actually okay with Tendou’s selection or because he didn’t want to shoot him down.

Probably the first option. He had no doubt that Semi would shoot him down in a heartbeat if Tendou suggested something he didn’t like.

Tendou tapped back a reply in the form of another question. _Want to meet there at seven?_

A few minutes later Semi answered. This time Tendou was gifted with two words.

_That’s fine_.

Tendou made a sound of frustration and tossed his phone across the room. It bounced once on his bed before settling. Tendou wheeled his desk chair back around and focused on his computer screen. He needed to finish a set of sketches for one of the businesses that often commissioned him.

Tendou had been staring at it for the past hour and a half with no progress.

Typically he could power through something like this in forty-five minutes, but typically his mind wasn’t so focused on an impending date that he couldn’t go thirty seconds without thinking about it.

It had been a while since Tendou had gone on a date, but it wasn’t as if this was new to him. The last time he’d planned one, he’d still worked through the day with minimal distraction.

The date wasn’t the problem. 

Semi Eita was.

Tendou groaned and slumped over on his desk, his face buried in his forearms. 

He’d been an artist for years and he considered himself a fairly good one. He was a professional. He should be able to do this job with no problems.

It should be easy, and it would be, if he could stop thinking about what Semi would be wearing that night, or if he was still going to be unbearably bitter about the Ushijima fiasco, or if maybe one of Tendou’s stupid jokes could pull a smile out of him.

He turned away from the computer and decided the work was a lost cause. As a rule Tendou didn’t do any paid jobs on the weekends, but it appeared as if he was going to have to make an exception. It would be better to finish the project tomorrow, after the date, when he could actually focus on something other than Semi.

Trying to do it now was just hopeless. 

He meandered about his apartment for the next few hours, cleaning things that were already clean and organizing things that were already organized. Then, finally, the clock struck six-thirty and he left his apartment with a strange wash of relief and anxiety.

He arrived at the restaurant early, which was unsurprising. He’d left a little too soon and he’d walked much too quickly. 

It was fifteen minutes until seven. He considered going inside, getting a table, and informing Semi via text.

He decided against it and just hovered outside the restaurant front, attracting curious looks from passersby and entering customers.

Tendou was used to curious looks, so he wasn’t bothered. He simply shuffled from foot to foot, watched the crowd for a glimpse of his date, and counted his breaths in an attempt to calm his nerves.

There wasn’t really anything to be nervous about, anyway. This wasn’t the first time he’d gone out with Semi.

It was the first time that Semi had agreed willingly, though, so Tendou supposed that meant it was their first actual date.

It would probably be their last, too; Semi was clearly just humoring him. 

Tendou tried not to think too hard on that when he saw a flash of pale hair among the approaching crowd. He stood on his toes to gain another few centimeters and caught a glimpse of that black leather jacket he’d grown so familiar with. 

He waved to catch Semi’s attention, but it was unnecessary. Tendou already stuck out in a crowd. 

Semi gravitated toward him, his face arranged in its usual half-scowl. His hands were shoved in the pockets of his jacket. “Hey.”

The single word made Tendou’s mood improve tenfold. It was a brief, neutral greeting, but at least Semi had willingly spoken to him. It was an improvement.

“Hey there, Semi-Semi,” said Tendou brightly. “You look nice.”

Semi raised a brow and looked down at himself. Beneath the jacket he wore a simple t-shirt and jeans. He didn’t look bad, but he clearly hadn’t gone out of his way to look good. “Are you being sarcastic?”

“I would never,” said Tendou solemnly.

Semi just looked at him, clearly trying to determine if that was sarcasm, too.

“Ready to go in?” said Tendou. Without waiting for a response he yanked open the door to the restaurant and stepped back, waving Semi inside first.

Semi continued to scowl as he entered, Tendou on his heels. 

The hostess was nice, and their waitress was even nicer. Tendou talked to her more than he probably should have, but he blamed the nervous energy. 

She didn’t seem to mind the distraction. Her eyes kept sliding sideways toward Semi, whose frown remained directed at the menu. 

When she finally left to fetch their drinks, Tendou said, “She’s nice, huh, Semi-Semi?”

Semi shrugged. “Whatever.”

“I think she likes you,” said Tendou with a crooked grin. 

Semi’s scowl turned up from the menu to sear into Tendou. “Shut up.”

Tendou’s grin didn’t waver. He shrugged and said, “Just calling it like I see it. She kept looking at you. But I can’t really blame her.”

Semi’s eyes narrowed and Tendou finally looked down at his menu, hyper-aware of Semi’s lingering stare. 

The waitress returned a moment later to break the silent tension. She delivered drinks, took orders, gave Semi an unnecessarily large smile that was not returned, and then swept over to another table.

“You’re not very friendly,” noted Tendou, tilting his head. “I thought it was just me, but you’re like that to everyone.”

“I’m not a people person.”

“Why not? People are fun.”

“People are stupid.” Semi folded his arms and sat back in his chair. “I’d rather not deal with them if I can help it.”

“Then why’d you agree to come out with me?” said Tendou, a teasing lilt to his voice. “I’m a person.”

Semi scowled at him, looked away, and chose not to answer.

Tendou wanted to pry, but figured that wouldn’t be the best idea.

“So… how was Shiratorizawa this week?” said Tendou, fishing for a subject change. “Anything cool and exciting happen?”

“Tsutomu fucked up the copier,” said Semi with a shrug. “I had to fix it for him and it got toner everywhere. I washed my clothes five fucking times and that shit still won’t come out.”

It took Tendou a beat too long to respond. He hadn’t actually expected Semi to answer. “I’m surprised that a fancy editor like yourself is also responsible for copier maintenance,” he finally said with a lopsided smile.

“I’m not fancy,” said Semi flatly. “It’s not my job but Tsutomu thought he was going to get in trouble. I felt bad for him.”

“So you do have feelings,” said Tendou with a false sense of awe. “I knew they were buried deep down in there somewhere.”

Semi scoffed and said nothing.

“So who’s Tsutomu?” said Tendou, trying to make Semi talk again. The more he heard Semi’s voice the more he liked it, especially when he was speaking neutrally instead of snapping. “One of your coworkers?”

“Intern,” said Semi. “Poor kid is kind of an idiot, but he tries harder than anyone I’ve ever seen. He worships the ground Ushijima walks on. It’s kind of exhausting.”

Tendou imagined a young intern following Ushijima around with stars in his eyes.

Then he imagined Ushijima’s reaction to such a thing and started laughing.

Semi quirked an eyebrow, unimpressed by Tendou’s unprovoked humor. “I didn’t say anything funny.”

A last giggle bubbled from Tendou’s lips and he managed to get himself under control. “Sorry. Just thinking.”

Semi didn’t say anything else and after a moment Tendou had to prod him back into conversation. “So do you like your job?”

“Do you like yours?” said Semi, the deflection immediate.

“I just sit around and draw all the time,” said Tendou. He tapped his fingers against the surface of the table in an unmatched rhythm. “What’s not to like?” He leaned a little closer and said, “Do you read my comics, Semi-Semi? Do you think I’m funny?”

Semi’s stare was flat. “No.”

He didn’t specify which question he was answering, but Tendou felt that the single word covered both.

Tendou was a little disappointed, but mostly relieved. If Semi didn’t check the comics, that meant he hadn’t noticed the more frequent appearances of the character that had gotten that two-toned dye job a couple of weeks before, and whose eyes were growing inevitably sharper every time Tendou drew them.

Tendou knew he was doing it, but that didn’t mean he could stop.

“So what about your job?” said Tendou, bringing the digression full circle. “I’m going to take a guess and say you’re not really into it.”

Semi’s face pinched in a way that was decidedly different than his typical frown. “I don’t mind editing. I’m good at it.”

The rhythm of Tendou’s tapping picked up. He tried to decide if this was a safe subject to pursue, thought it probably wasn’t, and kept talking about it anyway. “Then why do you have that constipated look on your face?”

That did earn him a full-scale scowl, and Tendou felt both anxious and pleased.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” said Semi. He reached for his water and sipped at it absently. 

Tendou pondered that for a moment. He remembered Semi saying something about getting his old job back. He wanted to ask about that, but now probably wasn’t the time. They weren’t exactly on the best of terms. He didn’t want to make their unsteady acquaintance even more precarious.

“Will you stop that?” said Semi. “It’s annoying.”

Tendou followed his sharp eyes and found his own fingers still drumming away on the tabletop. He put his hands in his lap and twined his fingers together. “Sorry, Semi-Semi. I just get restless sometimes.”

Even as he said it, his leg started bouncing. 

Semi gave him a look but didn’t push it.

“Why do you call me that?” said Semi.

“Because you don’t want me to call you Eita.”

“Can’t you just call me Semi like a normal person?”

“Do I seem normal to you?”

The corner of Semi’s mouth twitched. “No. Not even a little bit.”

Tendou beamed at him. “That’s why, then.”

The waitress arrived with plates of food and an obvious flutter of lashes for Semi. Semi dismissed her without a second glance and Tendou barely kept himself from bursting into laughter.

Tendou’s meal was excellent. Semi didn’t complain about his food, which Tendou interpreted as approval. They talked a little as they ate, bouncing through topics chosen by Tendou that were chiefly inconsequential.

Occasionally Semi forgot to scowl and his face smoothed into neutrality. It wasn’t as if Tendou actually made him smile, but he still counted it as a victory.

He wondered what Semi looked like when he really smiled.

Beautiful, probably. More beautiful than he already was.

Tendou paid the check. Semi gave him a look but didn’t argue.

They walked out together and stopped out front, in the same spot where Tendou had been waiting for Semi when he’d arrived.

“So was that the worst date you’ve ever been on?” asked Tendou. His mouth stretched wide in a grin that was meant to hide his nerves. 

Semi shrugged. “I’ve had worse, I guess.”

Tendou exerted a strong effort of will to keep from twirling in a dance of triumph. “Do you want to go out again?”

Semi looked up at him, one eyebrow raised. “Do you?”

“Obviously. That’s why I’m asking.”

Semi’s frown was more pensive than annoyed and Tendou felt his traitorous heart swell with hope.

“I’ll think about it,” Semi finally said. 

That wasn’t what Tendou had hoped to hear, but he would take it.

“Alright then, Semi-Semi,” he said cheerfully. “Think all you want. I’ll see you later, maybe.”

“Yeah,” said Semi quietly. “Maybe.”

That response wasn’t very promising, but it wasn’t paired with a scowl, so Tendou still allowed himself to be optimistic. He waved at Semi as he turned to skip down the sidewalk, mingling with the crowd.

Even if the date had accomplished nothing else, even if Semi didn’t want to go out with him again, Tendou was at least comforted by the fact that Semi didn’t seem to hate him.

He supposed that was good enough, for now.

  
  
  
  
A week passed, and Tendou heard nothing from Semi.

He wanted to say he wasn’t surprised, but he kind of was. He thought he’d made a decent impression on their date, but maybe it had been too late by that point. His first impression had been a nightmare. Second impressions just didn’t have the same impact.

More than once he glanced down to find his phone in his hand, thumb hovering over Semi’s contact information. Each time he stopped himself from calling.

If Semi wanted to see him again, Semi would let him know. Tendou didn’t want to push it and make him uncomfortable. 

Besides, Semi had every reason to not want to deal with him. Tendou understood that, even if it made him feel like trash every time he thought about it.

But he’d done this to himself, so he couldn’t really complain.

The week passed normally and Tendou found he was capable of focusing on his work again, despite the frequent wanderings of his mind toward the insistent subject of Semi Eita.

Just because Tendou wasn’t going to let himself contact Semi didn’t mean he couldn’t at least think about him occasionally.

Friday night bled into Saturday and Tendou spent the entire afternoon on his couch with a few cups of instant ramen and some mostly burnt popcorn.

It wasn’t the worst weekend he’d ever had, but he could definitely think of things he’d rather be doing.

It was nine o’clock when his phone chimed. It had fallen between the couch cushions and when he unearthed it he found a scatter of change that he relocated to the coffee table.

He wasn’t in a rush to check the message. He figured it was Ushijima with a play-by-play of whatever documentary he was watching. 

When he saw Semi’s name on his phone a pulse of shock buzzed through his limbs. He swiped at it frantically, impatient with the screen, and when it finally unlocked he read the message six times before he actually absorbed what it said.

_Are you here?_

Tendou stared at it too long, his mind churning as he tried to puzzle out the meaning. Semi had probably sent the text to the wrong person. That was the most logical explanation. Because if it had been meant for Tendou, he would have some semblance of an idea what Semi meant.

He didn’t want to just ignore it, though.

_Am I where?_

He sent it and dropped his phone back onto the couch. 

He refused to look at it again until the chime pinged and he flung his mostly empty popcorn bowl across the floor in his haste to grab it.

_The club. You’re usually here by now._

A smile tugged at Tendou’s mouth. 

That text was definitely for him.

_I wasn’t planning to get off the couch tonight_ , Tendou sent back.

There was a two-minute pause before Semi replied.

_Well drag your lazy ass up and get over here_.

Tendou did exactly that.  
  
  
  
Half an hour later Tendou walked into the club. His wardrobe was rushed but acceptable, his hair was freshly styled, and his ribcage was full of butterflies. On the way over he’d told himself that Semi might have just been messing with him. Maybe he was playing a game to see just how tightly he could get Tendou wound around his finger before he threw him away.

It was possible, but Semi didn’t seem like that kind of guy.

It didn’t take Tendou long to find him. Semi was sitting at the bar, almost in the same spot that Tendou frequented. He was reclining against the counter, elbows resting on the ledge, face neutral as he idly watched the other clubgoers.

Tendou thought he should be on the cover of a magazine.

Semi turned his head as Tendou approached. His expression didn’t change but he reached for the leather jacket that he’d discarded on the neighboring stool and folded it across his lap instead, making room for Tendou.

Tendou hopped up without a word. He tried to tame his smile but he still felt that it might split his face. “Hey there, Semi-Semi.”

Semi took him in with a sweep of dark, sharp eyes. Then he turned his head and scanned the rest of the club again. “You got here quick.”

It was difficult to hear him over the pounding of the music, but Tendou was so fixated on the way Semi’s lips moved that he could’ve guessed the words even if they’d been silent. He shrugged one shoulder and gestured for the bartender. “I live close. You want something to drink?”

“I already had one,” said Semi. “I’m good.”

“Just one?”

“I don’t drink much.”

Tendou eyed him but didn’t comment. Now that he thought about it, he couldn’t recall seeing Semi drink much of anything during his trips to the club. Semi always singled out his prey, went in for the kill, and then dragged his prize out the door. The only time he’d ever bothered with an alcohol fix was two weeks before, when he’d taken Tendou home again.

Tendou gave the bartender his order and swiveled back around on his stool. “So what’s up?”

Semi shrugged. “I was bored.”

Tendou tilted his head toward Semi. “Oh? Not enough pretty boys here to satisfy you?”

He regretted the jab as soon as it was out of his mouth, but Semi didn’t seem to take offense.

“It’s all the same losers as usual,” said Semi. “It gets old sometimes.”

He said it offhand, as if hooking up with a different guy each time he came to the club was commonplace.

Tendou surveyed the crowd. He picked out several decent prospects that seemed to fit in with the sort of guys that Semi tended to choose. Either Semi had taken these particular men home before or he wasn’t in the mood for his usual routine.

Tendou hoped it was the latter option.

Tendou’s drink was delivered and he accepted it with a grin and a thank you. He downed half of it in one gulp and only paused then because Semi was staring at him.

“Uh,” said Tendou. “You want some?”

Semi’s frown was deeper than usual. “I saw you get pretty drunk here a couple of times. It’s not a good idea to do that when you’re out by yourself. Something could happen.”

“Was that concern?” said Tendou, eyes wide. He leaned closer. “Are you _concerned_ about me, Semi-Semi?”

Semi nudged him away with his elbow. “Shut up. I’m just saying.”

Tendou settled back onto his stool with a smirk. “Don’t worry about me. The worst that would happen is someone stealing my wallet. No one is going to kidnap me or take advantage of me. I’m not pretty like you, Semi-Semi. I don’t have to worry about that kind of thing.”

He felt Semi looking at him, but Tendou just tossed back the rest of his drink and lifted the empty glass toward the bartender to request another.

“So what’ve you been doing the past week?” said Tendou, when a fresh drink was pressed into his hand. 

“Same stuff as usual,” said Semi. He watched Tendou sip at his drink, more slowly this time. After a pause he said, “You didn’t text me.”

Tendou pressed his glass against his lips to keep them from stretching into a smile. “I figured you didn’t want to go out again. You said you’d think about it.”

“Yeah,” said Semi. “I did.”

Tendou arched an eyebrow. “And?”

Semi crossed his arms and scowled. “Well we’re here, right?”

“So is this a date?” asked Tendou. This time his grin was uncontainable.

Semi rolled his eyes. “Not if you keep asking stupid questions.”

Tendou took another drink to mask his delight. Maybe he still had a chance, after all.

“You should have said so,” said Tendou. “I would’ve dressed better.”

Semi’s eyes dipped to take in Tendou’s attire. “You look fine.”

It was an offhand comment. It could hardly be considered a compliment, really. Still, Tendou felt his face get a little warm and he looked in the other direction.

“You sure you don’t want anything to drink?” said Tendou after his face had cooled. “I don’t mind buying something for my _date_.”

Semi’s glare was scathing but Tendou just grinned.

“I’m sure,” said Semi.

“Not even water or something?”

“No.”

Tendou shrugged. He finished his second drink, slid the glass onto the counter, and shook his head when the bartender offered another. When she’d gone to take someone else’s order, Tendou leaned closer to Semi. “What about a dance?” he said, just loud enough to be heard over the crush of the bass and the overlapping conversations. He nodded toward the thicket of bodies pulsing in time with the music. “I bet you’re a good dancer, Semi-Semi.”

Semi frowned, but it didn’t look quite like an unhappy expression. “I’m alright. Nothing to brag about.”

“Well I, for one, am a _great_ dancer.” Tendou hopped off his stool and bounced on the balls of his feet. “Come on, I’ll show you!”

Semi’s face was still shuttered but Tendou swore he saw a touch of amusement shine through. “Do I have to?”

“No, but you’ll be missing out.”

Semi’s mouth twitched upward. It was so quick that Tendou almost wasn’t convinced that it had even happened. 

Then Semi slid off of his barstool, laid his folded jacket over it, and followed Tendou to the dance floor.

The current song was upbeat and Tendou dove into the thick of the dancers to jump in time with the music. Semi stood back and watched him, one eyebrow raised in delicate skepticism. 

The song faded and the beat that followed was deep and hard and gritty. 

Tendou looked back for Semi, who had been hovering at the edge of the group. He was nowhere in sight and Tendou whipped his head around, searching.

A hand curled around Tendou’s shoulder, the warmth seeping through his shirt, and spun him. 

“If we’re going to dance,” said Semi, forced to raise his voice because of their close proximity to the speakers, “then stop jumping around like an idiot and _dance_.”

He turned, seized Tendou’s wrists, and guided Tendou’s long fingers to rest on his hips. He shifted and the movement brought his back flush against Tendou’s chest.

Tendou swallowed. Semi was warm against him, the smell of citrus shampoo and leather strong and enticing. He spread his hands and his thumbs eased up beneath the hem of Semi’s shirt, grazing the skin just above his jeans. 

Semi didn’t seem to mind. He pressed his hands over Tendou’s, as if encouraging him. Then the music pulsed, Semi matched the roll of his hips to the beat, and Tendou knew he was _fucked_.

The bass pounded and Semi rocked along with it. Even if the feeling of Semi grinding against him hadn’t been enough to kill Tendou, the fluid sensation of Semi’s hips rolling beneath his palms would have done the job.

Tendou tried to keep up. After all, he’d been the one bragging about his dancing prowess. He moved with the music, swayed against Semi, and hooked his thumbs into the waistband of Semi’s jeans. He gripped Semi’s hips and pulled him back against him, heightening the friction and increasing his own level of physical torture.

Semi tossed his head back and raised an arm to clutch at the back of Tendou’s hair. Semi’s breath was hot in Tendou’s ear as he said, voice raspy, “Are you hard?”

Tendou bit his lip and tried to fight his flush. Of course he was hard. It was impossible to _not_ be hard when Semi was grinding on him like that. He forced a grin through his embarrassment and said, “Yeah. Are you?”

Semi gave a particularly lewd swivel of his hips and didn’t respond.

Tendou bit down on a curse. He raised his hands to grip Semi’s shoulders and spun him. He curled fingers in Semi’s belt loops and yanked him forward, bringing their hips flush together. He moved with the bass, rolled against Semi, and felt a hot hardness against his thigh that matched his own. 

He smirked at Semi, whose returned scowl was unconvincing.

“Fuck off,” mumbled Semi, the words almost drowned in the wash of the music. Semi pressed his palms against Tendou’s chest and curled his fingers in the front of his shirt. “Can we stop yet?”

“You want to stop?” grinned Tendou. “Are you sure? Feels like you’re having a pretty good time, Semi-Semi.”

“Shut up,” said Semi, the words lacking heat. He looked up at Tendou and his eyes were dark; darker than Tendou remembered. “I can just think of something better we could do.”

“Oh?” said Tendou. His voice was smooth, despite the harsh patter of his heart. “What’s that?”

Semi rolled his eyes and shoved him. Tendou took a step back to preserve his balance. “Do you want to go home with me or not?”

Tendou had known the invitation was coming. That didn’t stop the nervous lurch that flipped his stomach. “Is that what you want?”

Semi didn’t bother with a response. He turned and waded through the crowd of people, who were still swaying and bouncing and grinding. 

Tendou followed quickly, almost stumbling over his own feet in his haste. He was suddenly glad he’d decided not to have a third drink, because he would have absolutely tripped and ended up face-down on the filthy club floor.

He caught up with Semi at the bar where he was retrieving his jacket. Semi slipped into the sleeves, shrugged the leather onto his shoulders, and turned to face Tendou. “You ready to go?”

Tendou nodded, because he couldn’t quite find the words he wanted.

He followed Semi outside and halfway down the block. Semi paused there to lean against a building and light a cigarette, exhaling smoke into the cool night air. He held it between two fingers and extended it toward Tendou.

Belatedly, Tendou realized he was offering to share. “Oh, uh, no thanks. I don’t smoke.”

Semi shrugged and took another drag. 

Standing there on the mostly vacant street, the only light cast by the streetlamps dotted along the sidewalk, Semi looked more relaxed than Tendou had ever seen him.

“Let me finish this,” said Semi, tapping away some ash, “and we’ll go.”

Tendou slouched against the wall beside him. He tapped his foot against the sidewalk, a habit of nerves rather than impatience.

“Hey, Semi-Semi?”

“Hmm?”

“We, uh… We don’t have to… to do _that_ , you know.”

Semi just looked at him. “You don’t want to?”

“That’s not what I mean,” said Tendou quickly. “I just mean…” He leaned his head back against the brick wall and closed his eyes, trying to organize his thoughts. “I mean, that’s not all I want, you know? I didn’t come just for that.”

Semi exhaled another smoky breath and said nothing.

“I want to get to know you, you know?” said Tendou. “I want to hang out and learn stuff about you. Like your favorite movie, and your favorite color, and stuff you love and hate. It’s not just about sex for me. It’s about you.”

The cigarette fell from Semi’s fingers and he crushed it beneath the toe of his boot. His eyes remained downcast, fixed on a random point on the sidewalk. “I don’t like movies. Black or silver. I like mochi and I hate whiskey.”

A grin crept onto Tendou’s face. “Is that why your hair is dyed like that? Black and silver?”

Semi’s mouth twisted into a frown. “Coincidence.”

Tendou laughed once, but sobered quickly. “Seriously, though. I don’t want you to think I’m just in it for the sex. You’re worth a lot more than that.”

Semi looked at him, but Tendou couldn’t gauge his expression. He suddenly found himself unable to make eye contact at all. Instead he looked across the street, where a man had stopped to stare at them.

Tendou didn’t have time to wonder what the man’s problem was before the stranger was crossing the street, jogging to avoid distant oncoming traffic.

“Hey,” the guy said, slightly out of breath. He barely glanced at Tendou. His attention was reserved for Semi, and it was intent. “Eita, what’s up? I haven’t seen you around lately.”

A cold, sluggish dread dripped down Tendou’s spine. He didn’t recognize this man in particular but he had a fairly good guess as to how the two of them knew each other. If the context alone hadn’t been enough, his use of Semi’s first name would have done it.

Semi looked at the man for only a brief second. Then he tapped out another cigarette and lit it, staring at the flickering end instead of their new company. He didn’t respond, which should have been a clear dismissal.

Instead the man pressed further. “We should hang out again. It was a good time.”

“Apparently not that good,” said Semi with a shrug and a puff of smoke. “I don’t remember you.”

The man was taken aback. He blinked at Semi, then switched his gaze to Tendou. Something sparked in his eyes, and it looked frighteningly like aggression. 

Tendou braced himself for some sort of outburst but the man just huffed and stormed away. Before he was out of range he said over his shoulder, “Fine. Fucking freak.”

Semi’s mouth quirked around his cigarette but he said nothing.

Tendou didn’t, either. It wasn’t his place.

It took a few minutes for Semi to finish smoking. Neither of them spoke until the second cigarette joined the first, crushed beneath Semi’s shoe.

“If you want to go, I get it,” said Semi. His face was a mask of neutrality.

Tendou stared at him. “Why would I do that?”

“Because the number of guys I’ve fucked is probably higher than my IQ.”

“Semi…”

“I wasn’t just being an ass,” said Semi. “I really don’t remember him. And it wasn’t because I was drunk, because I don’t take guys home when I have more than one drink. There have literally been too many of them for me to remember. It’s fucking disgusting, and yeah, I know I should stop, but I-”

“ _Semi_.”

The sharp sound of his name derailed Semi’s rant. He fumbled into silence, face downturned, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket. He was scowling, but his eyebrows twitched dangerously, like he was barely holding the expression together.

“I don’t care about that,” said Tendou. “I don’t care about any of it.”

“You should.”

“Why?” said Tendou. “Because everyone else does? I’m not everyone else, Semi-Semi.”

Semi snorted. He was aiming for derisive but didn’t quite hit the mark. “Obviously.”

Tendou waited. Semi still didn’t look up, didn’t move.

Tendou nudged him with his elbow, gently. “Hey. You alright?”

Semi shrugged him off. “I’m fine.”

“Do you want to go get food or something?”

Finally Semi glanced up at him. “I thought we were going to my place.”

“We don’t have to. We can do whatever you want, Semi-Semi.”

Semi studied him for a long moment, searching. Then he looked away and said, “I want to go back to my place. If you still want to.”

Tendou sprang away from the wall. “I want to do whatever you want to do. Let’s go, we’re burning daylight standing out here like street thugs.”

He started walking and Semi’s boots scuffed against the sidewalk as he followed. “It’s ten-thirty. There is no daylight.”

“You’re killing my vibe, Semi-Semi.”

Tendou could have sworn, as he looked over his shoulder, that Semi smiled, but a patch of shadow washed it away before he could be sure.


	6. Chapter 6

The short walk to Semi’s apartment was relatively calm.

It was only when they arrived that Tendou’s tension returned.

Semi shed his coat and draped it across the hanger by the door. “You want something to drink?”

“No,” said Tendou, despite the desert dryness of his mouth. A drink wouldn’t fix it. “I’m okay.”

It was the first time he’d been offered anything other than sex at Semi’s apartment. He would have been pleased if his nerves had been calm enough to allow him to feel anything at all.

He told himself there was no reason to freak out. It wasn’t as if he’d never been here before. It wasn’t as if they’d never had sex before. 

Semi started toward his bedroom, pulling his shirt over his head as he went. 

The dryness spread to Tendou’s throat and he had to clear it twice before he could speak. “Uh, Semi?”

Semi paused in the doorway and looked at him over a bare shoulder. “What?”

“We don’t have to do this,” said Tendou, although they’d already had this conversation on the street outside the club. “You know this isn’t why I like you, right?”

Semi scowled at him. “I know. You said that.”

“I just want to make sure-”

“You’re not taking advantage of me, if that’s what you think,” said Semi. There was a low measure of heat behind the words. “I don’t fuck anyone I don’t want to fuck.”

“I just don’t want you to think-”

“I know, Tendou,” said Semi curtly. “I don’t think you’re using me for sex, okay? Now do you want to do this or not?”

Tendou’s eyes traveled down the smooth curve of Semi’s spine, to the dip of his lower back. “Only if you want to.”

“Then come on.” Semi pushed a handful of hair away from his forehead and took a step. Then he paused and said, without looking back, “You’re the only person I’ve ever brought here more than once.” The words were low, but Tendou heard them. “If that makes you feel any better.”

He passed through the doorway, out of sight.

Tendou tried to calm the staccato drumbeat of his heart as he followed.

When his eyes adjusted to the low light of the room he found Semi fishing the lube out of the dresser and moving toward the bathroom, his jeans hanging low on his hips.

“You don’t have to do that,” said Tendou. “I mean, I don’t mind-”

“I’d rather do it myself,” said Semi, not looking at him. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

Tendou didn’t argue. He sat on the edge of Semi’s bed and scuffed his feet against the carpet, remembering the past two times he’d been there. 

Semi had shut himself in the bathroom to prepare himself both times. The first time Tendou had thought it was because they’d just met. The second time he’d assumed it was because Semi was still angry with him.

He couldn’t come up with a good reason for it this time, though. Semi wasn’t exactly shy.

A few minutes later Semi emerged, stripped down to his underwear. He looked as good as the first time Tendou had seen him; better, even, because now Tendou knew a little bit about what was beneath that pretty, perfect surface.

Tendou stood and crossed the room before Semi could approach and stopped just shy of contact. Semi was shorter without his boots on, just enough that he had to tilt his face up a little more. 

Tendou raised a hand, slowly, and pressed it against the side of Semi’s face. 

Semi’s first reaction was a small flinch that was quickly snuffed out. He remained neutral as Tendou stroked a thumb over his cheekbone, cherishing the smooth texture of his skin. The corner of his eyeliner was smudged and Tendou gently rubbed at it, smearing it even more.

Semi twitched away from him and said, “Are you just going to stare at me all night?”

“I’d be okay with that.”

Semi’s face went blank. Then he quickly looked away and Tendou thought he saw a touch of pink across his cheeks. “Whatever. Take your clothes off.”

“You take them off, Semi-Semi.”

“Fine,” he snapped. “Arms up.”

Tendou obliged and his shirt was yanked roughly over his head. He patted at his hair to make sure it was still halfway presentable but forgot about his appearance quickly when Semi started tugging at the button of his jeans.

“Hey, hang on a second,” said Tendou.

Semi’s fingers stilled and he looked up, brow furrowed.

Tendou slipped a curled finger beneath his chin and kissed him.

He started slow, a brush of lips against lips, gradually pressing with more heat.

Semi didn’t appreciate the pace.

He kissed back roughly, teeth digging into Tendou’s bottom lip, pulling until it was almost painful.

He tore Tendou’s pants open and shoved them to the floor, nearly tripping him as he forced him backward toward the bed. A firm shove in the middle of Tendou’s chest sent him flailing and he bounced once on the mattress before righting himself.

He barely had time to breathe before Semi was on him, descending in a harsh kiss of teeth and tongue.

Tendou slid his fingers through Semi’s hair and it ran through his fingers like satin. Semi went still, his breathing heavy, as if he was waiting for something.

It took Tendou a moment to realize what he was waiting for. Then he carefully tightened his grip in Semi’s hair and pulled.

Semi gritted his teeth and moaned, his hips rolling down against Tendou’s. Tendou threw his head back at the sensation, rutting up in search of friction.

Semi rolled off of him just long enough to kick off his underwear. Then he yanked Tendou’s off as well and resumed his position, straddling Tendou’s hips, angling himself in a way that maximized contact.

Tendou sat up to kiss him but Semi slapped a hand against his shoulder and pushed him back down.

“Don’t be gentle with me,” said Semi. His pupils were already blown, black on black. He spoke through his teeth, voice so low it was almost a growl. “You won’t hurt me.”

“But what if I want to be gentle?” Tendou reached for Semi’s face and his hand was smacked away.

“I don’t want it like that,” said Semi. 

“What if I do?”

Semi faltered. The clench of his jaw loosened and he licked his lips, tongue darting out quickly. “I don’t…”

He trailed off, uncertain. 

Clearly Semi had a script and Tendou was rewriting the lines.

“Let’s make a deal,” said Tendou. He grinned, lopsided, and Semi seemed to relax a little. “I’ll do it your way, and if I’m good enough, then next time we’ll do it my way. That’s fair, right?”

Semi licked his lips again. Tendou’s eyes tracked the movement.

He didn’t immediately answer, so Tendou gripped Semi’s hips and ground up against him to provide some incentive.

Semi closed his eyes and bit his lip, scowling despite the situation. 

“Fine,” he managed, the word forced. “Whatever. But only if you do it how I want.”

“Okay,” said Tendou. “Deal.”

He flipped Semi off of him and onto his back. Before Semi could react Tendou was on top of him, his legs pressing against Semi’s, his hands pinning Semi’s wrists to the mattress. 

He stayed like that until Semi fidgeted beneath him, forehead creased in annoyance.

“But you have to promise to stop me if I hurt you,” said Tendou. 

“You won’t hurt me.”

“I’m serious. Promise me.”

Semi glowered up at him. Then his eyes skated to the side and he said, “Yeah, I promise.”

Tendou exhaled and some of the tension ebbed from his taut muscles. “Good.”

He ducked his head and sank his teeth into Semi’s shoulder.

Semi arched beneath him with a cry of surprise, wrists thrashing against Tendou’s grip. Tendou soothed the bite with his tongue, sucked against the flesh until Semi writhed, and then sat up to look at him. 

“You sure this is what you want?” said Tendou, tilting his head with a smirk.

“Fuck you.”

“No,” said Tendou, leaning down to lick along Semi’s jaw. “Fuck _you_.”

He bit down again, a touch more gently, and Semi’s hips bucked. Tendou ground down, both of them gasping from the wash of sensation.

Tendou had never been into things like this. He’d had only a handful of partners in the past. He had cared deeply for each of them and had used sex as a means to make sure they knew how much he cared.

He cared about Semi; probably more than he should considering the short length of time that they’d known each other. He wanted to kiss him everywhere, his mouth and his face and his neck. He wanted to map out Semi’s body with his fingertips, every cut and curve and divot. He wanted to taste Semi on his tongue, to savor the shudders and moans that he dragged out of him.

He wanted a lot of things, but so did Semi.

Only one of them could have what they wanted right now so he would do his best to make Semi happy.

Tendou released one of Semi’s wrists and gripped his jaw. He studied him through half-lidded eyes, focusing on the heat in his gaze and the curl of his lip. Then he pushed Semi’s face to the side and dragged his teeth along his neck.

Semi’s twitch turned into a full-blown shudder when Tendou sealed his lips against Semi’s throat and sucked.

Semi exhaled. The breath was unsteady but almost silent.

Tendou bit down on the spot where his lips had been and Semi’s free hand clawed at Tendou’s back, a choked sound escaping his throat.

Tendou gripped a handful of hair and pulled Semi’s head further back, exposing his neck completely to a scatter of licks and bites and kisses. 

Semi’s free hand fell away from Tendou’s shoulder and worked between them, fingers closing around his own erection.

Tendou yanked Semi’s hair harder and got a thready moan in response. “I’ll take care of that for you later, Semi-Semi. Be patient.”

Semi’s lip curled back, flashing teeth in a silent snarl. He deliberately stroked himself, eyes narrowed.

It was a show. He was putting on a show and Tendou needed to play his part.

He released Semi’s hair and seized his wrist, yanking his arm back over his head and pinning it in place.

“You’re not a very good listener, are you?” he said lightly, tilting his head as he looked down at Semi. “Maybe you should try harder.”

Semi pulled against Tendou’s hold, testing his grip. Tendou only squeezed more tightly.

“How about this?” said Tendou, leaning so close that his breath touched Semi’s lips. “Spread your legs so I can fuck you.”

Semi closed his eyes and sucked in a breath through his teeth. When he looked at Tendou again his stare was as sharp as shattered glass. He shifted beneath Tendou, spreading his thighs so Tendou could comfortably fit between them. 

Tendou released Semi’s wrists and clamped Semi’s face between both of his hands. He kissed him hard, biting his lip just as sharply as Semi had done. Semi’s hands drifted to Tendou’s back, digging into lean muscle in a way that was just shy of painful.

Tendou broke away, lined himself up, and realized he’d forgotten to put on a condom. He looked down at himself and then back up at Semi. “Wait just one second.”

He slithered out of Semi’s grasp and staggered unsteadily across the room, to the dresser from which Semi retrieved his supplies. He chose the drawer that Semi always used and was rewarded with an impressive stock of condoms. He plucked one out of the drawer, ripped it open, and turned to go back to the bed.

He fumbled the condom when he almost walked into Semi, who’d followed him on silent feet. Semi took the condom out of his hands, slipped it out of the foil, and expertly rolled it onto Tendou, his fingers lingering and squeezing.

Tendou’s breath hitched at the pressure. “You didn’t wait,” he said, a little breathless.

“You took too fucking long.”

Tendou stared down at him. One of Semi’s hands was still on him, stroking absently. He carded the other through his own hair, the pale strands catching the low light. Semi dropped his arm to the side, stepped closer to Tendou, and said, “Are you just going to stand there or are you going to fuck me?”

Tendou was unfamiliar with this game but he had a decent idea of how it worked. There was a jolt of nerves as he reached for Semi, his fingers wrapping loosely around his throat.

Semi’s eyes fluttered closed, lips parting around a pleased exhale.

Tendou tightened his grip and shoved Semi against the wall, pinning him in place by his throat. 

Semi went rigid, eyes still squeezed shut, breath stuttering to a stop.

Tendou froze, too. He’d gone too far.

He started to pull back, but Semi opened his eyes and that black broken glass was _ablaze_. The look on Semi’s face sent heat rushing all the way to Tendou’s toes, setting him alight from the inside out. 

Tendou ducked in to kiss him and Semi kissed back with more heat than Tendou had ever felt. Semi pawed at his hips, coaxing him closer so they could rub against each other. 

Tendou pressed against him, aided by the solid resistance of the wall, and Semi moaned into his mouth.

Tendou wanted to fuck him against the wall. He wanted to lift Semi by his thighs and slam into him until he completely unraveled.

But Tendou didn’t trust his upper body strength, so he did the next best thing. He spun Semi around and shoved him against the plaster. Tendou put a hand on the back of Semi’s neck and pressed the side of his face against the wall. Then he moved forward and prodded at Semi’s entrance, earning a muffled groan.

“Fucking do it,” Semi huffed. He arched his back, pushing himself against Tendou as best he could from that position. “Stop fucking stalling.”

Tendou smiled at him and pretended he wasn’t an absolute mess himself. “Say please.”

Semi turned his head a little further to glare over his shoulder. “I’d rather fucking die.”

Tendou huffed a laugh. He remembered the first time they’d hooked up, when Semi had been willing to beg to get what he wanted. That had been a mask, one that Semi wore too often.

This was how Semi really was, blunt and brash and sharp. This was how Tendou liked him, when he wasn’t trying to please anyone else. 

Tendou thrust into Semi in one quick, hard push. The slide was slick, but it was so tight that Tendou felt he would be crushed to a pulp. He leaned on Semi and muffled a pained groan against his shoulder. “I thought you prepped yourself already,” he said, the words choked. 

“I did.” The words were forced through his teeth. 

“Not enough,” Tendou griped back. “Fuck. Let me grab the lube and-”

“ _Don’t_.” The word was the crack of a whip. “You said you’d do what I want. I want it like this.”

“I don’t want to-”

“It doesn’t hurt,” said Semi. His voice was still half-wrecked but now it was spattered with irritation. “I said I’d tell you if you hurt me and it doesn’t fucking hurt. Don’t you dare fucking stop.”

Tendou hunched his back to press his face between Semi’s shoulders and muffled a frustrated groan. “You’re killing me. You’re literally killing me.”

“Don’t die until after you’ve fucked me,” Semi hissed back.

Tendou gritted his teeth, bent his knees to pull out, and threw his hips forward as he slammed back in.

Semi slapped his hands against the wall to steady himself. The sound that rumbled from his throat was raspy, almost feral. His fingers curled inward as his hands clenched into fists. 

Tendou seized Semi’s wrists and pinned his hands over his head, flattening him further against the wall. Semi’s chest was flush against the plaster, head craned to one side.

“Can you breathe?” Tendou said, the words ruffling Semi’s hair.

Semi nodded, awkwardly.

Tendou shifted his grip to pin both of Semi’s arms in one hand, his long fingers wrapping around Semi’s wrists easily. He braced his free hand against the wall, dug his feet into the carpet, and fucked Semi into the wall. 

The sounds that dribbled from Semi’s lips were obscene and Tendou knew his own noises probably matched. Semi arched his back for a better angle, and this time when Tendou thrust in, the cry that tore out of Semi’s throat was sharp enough to slice through steel.

“ _Fuck_ ,” said Semi, half-moan and half-shout. “Fuck, yes, _fuck, Tendou_ …”

Tendou bit his lip hard enough to bleed. It took every shred of his self-restraint not to come immediately at the sound of his name in that wrecked, ragged voice. 

He peeled his hand off of the wall and pressed it against the back of Semi’s neck, pushing his face more firmly into the plaster. “I’m letting go of your hands,” he said, his voice a low rasp. “Don’t move them.”

He didn’t wait for Semi to respond. He loosened his grip and slipped a hand around to Semi’s stomach, dipping down until his fingers wrapped around Semi’s length.

Semi moaned and the sound was half-muffled by the wall. His hands curled into tight fists but he kept them over his head, right where Tendou had left them.

Tendou twisted his wrist in quick strokes, timing them with his thrusts. Semi shuddered beneath him and Tendou could feel how close he was.

He slid his free hand around the side of Semi’s neck, long fingers gripping his throat, and applied a slight amount of pressure.

Semi made a high-pitched sound that was almost a whine. Then it devolved into a low, rolling moan as he came into Tendou’s hand, stray spurts painting the wall.

Tendou fucked him through it, and when he’d finished, he gripped Semi’s hips tightly enough to bruise. One of his hands slid against Semi’s skin, slick with come.

Semi was stretched enough now that the slide was no longer painful. Tendou slammed into him with urgency, chasing the fleeting edge of his own orgasm. He was so close he could taste it, as vibrant as the tang of copper on his tongue.

Then Semi said, through a gasp, “ _Tendou_.”

Tendou came so hard it was a miracle he didn’t pass out.

As the aftershocks zipped through him like jolts of electricity, he pulled out and clumsily sank to the floor. Semi followed, dropping to his knees and resting his head against the wall. They both panted like they’d ran a marathon.

They panted like they’d _won_ a marathon.

“Fuck,” said Semi, when he’d caught his breath enough to speak.

Tendou leaned back on his arms and hoped they would support his weight. “Is that a good fuck or a bad one?”

Semi closed his eyes and pushed damp hair off of his forehead. All of the lines in his face had smoothed out. Even his perpetually knitted brows were neutral. “I mean, it was okay, I guess.”

Tendou grinned. “Something like that from you is a hell of a compliment, Semi-Semi.”

“Could’ve been better. You didn’t even facefuck me.”

Tendou’s eyes widened. “I don’t… was I supposed to?”

Semi snorted. “You’re kind of a fucking nerd.”

“Whatever. It was still good so that means I get my way next time.”

Semi peeked from beneath his eyelids just enough to glare. “Who says there’s going to be a next time?”

The taunt made Tendou tense up and he automatically thought he’d done something wrong. When he recognized the lack of heat behind the words he slowly relaxed again. “No one. Just hypothetically speaking, _if_ there is a next time.”

Semi huffed and ran a hand through his hair again. He stopped halfway through the motion, stared at his fingers, and then sat back to look at the wall. “I have come in my hair,” he said dully. “That’s disgusting.”

“It’s probably not the first time.” 

Semi leaned over to wipe his hand off on Tendou’s shoulder. “Shut up. I need a shower.” 

He stood, legs shaking only slightly when they were forced to support his weight. He put a hand against the wall for stability and was halfway inside the bathroom door before he looked back at Tendou.

The heavy weight of resignation settled in Tendou’s chest. He was familiar with this routine. Semi would tell him to leave, get in the shower, and expect Tendou to be gone before he was finished. Tendou would have to swipe a few more tissues out of the box on Semi’s desk just to make himself presentable enough to step back out in public.

“Hey, so…” Semi hesitated, his words trailing into momentary silence before he found them again. “You can stay, if… if you want. I’m showering first, though. You’ll have to wait.”

Tendou gaped up at him. His mouth might have been hanging open. He wasn’t certain and he was too much in shock to care.

“Are you sure?”

Semi’s scowl fell into place and they were again in familiar territory. “If I wasn’t sure I wouldn’t have said it. You don’t have to. I was just offering. Do what you want.”

“I’ll stay!” chirped Tendou, before Semi could close the door. “Just to warn you, though, Waka says I snore, but I think he’s just making it up. If it keeps you awake all night, though, I guess we’ll know for sure.”

Semi’s stare was flat. “Nevermind. Get out.”

Tendou laughed, and he felt so light that he thought he might just float away.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, check it out! Foxyena made awesome art of Semi for this fic! Look at it [HERE](http://foxyenaarts.tumblr.com/post/160417962770/a-gift-art-for-one-of-my-favorite-haikyuu).

“We had morning-after breakfast,” said Tendou, the gravity of the event clear in his tone. “Eggs and rice. It was amazing.”

Ushijima nodded. “Your cooking skills are adequate.”

“Not the _food_ , Waka,” said Tendou. He sighed and wilted in Ushijima’s office chair, limbs dangling limply from the edges. “The whole thing was amazing. _He’s_ amazing. And he almost smiled before I left. It was so close.”

Most people would have probably found that strange, but considering Ushijima’s smiles were also a rarity, he likely understood.

It was eleven-thirty on Monday morning. Tendou had planned to wait until his weekly lunch with Ushijima on Thursday to rave about his weekend, but found he couldn’t go that long without talking about it. If he’d been physically capable of waking up before ten a.m. on any given day he would have been there even sooner.

“He even replied to my texts last night,” said Tendou wistfully. “All of them. Do you think he likes me? I really hope he likes me.”

“He allowed you to have sex with him,” said Ushijima. “I think that means he must like you.”

Tendou sighed again and slouched further into the chair. “Yeah, maybe.”

“You still haven’t told me his name.”

“I want to wait until I know for sure he likes me,” said Tendou. “I don’t want to jinx it.”

Ushijima didn’t bother arguing with his faulty logic. That was one of the many reasons Tendou valued his friendship.

There was a tap at Ushijima’s office door. Tendou almost perked up to look but shook off the urge. The chances that it was Semi were extremely low. Ushijima had dozens of employees. It could have been anyone and Tendou didn’t want to get his hopes up.

“Come in,” said Ushijima, waving the person forward.

Tendou lolled his head back to view the arrival upside-down.

The cut of sharp eyes locked onto him and Tendou sat up so quickly he nearly fell into the floor.

Unlike the first awkward incident in Ushijima’s office, this time Semi was unruffled by Tendou’s presence. He walked with his usual smooth gait, a stack of papers hugged against his chest.

“I need you to sign off on these, Ushijima-san,” said Semi, pointedly avoiding Tendou’s unsubtle stare. 

Ushijima took the pages with a nod, reached for a pen, and started inking replicas of his signature.

As he worked, Semi glanced sideways at Tendou, who grinned widely.

“Anyway, as I was saying,” said Tendou airily, “it was a good weekend. He’s a great guy, Waka. You’d love him.”

Semi’s eyes widened. He cut his gaze toward Ushijima, who hadn’t even bothered to look up from his work. “You’ll have to introduce me,” said Ushijima. “When you’ve decided for sure if he likes you.”

Tendou felt his face warming as Semi’s head turned again, fixing him with a speculative stare.

Tendou sputtered for a response, aware that his innocent attempt to tease Semi had backfired. After a moment’s struggle he settled for, “Yeah, okay.”

Semi’s mouth twitched and he looked away. Although he wasn’t quite smiling, his amusement was obvious. It made his eyes brighter; more like gemstones instead of blades.

“I was thinking,” said Tendou, struck by sudden inspiration, “about asking him to have lunch with me. Do you think that’s too soon? I mean, we just saw each other yesterday.”

Semi’s eyes darted toward him, just briefly.

“I think if you want to ask him to lunch then you should do so,” said Ushijima levelly. He flipped another page and etched another neat signature. “If he doesn’t wish to go he will tell you so.”

“Maybe he’ll want to go to that ramen place on the corner,” said Tendou. “You know, the one we went to a couple of weeks ago. What’s it called, Waka?”

Ushijima looked up from his work, his stare flat. “Do not take him to the Slaughterhouse, Tendou. He will never speak to you again.”

Tendou burst into laughter. Ushijima was clearly unamused. 

Semi looked between the two of them, confused.

“I don’t know, Waka,” said Tendou, the words garbled by a chuckle. “He seems adventurous. He might like it.”

“It isn’t an adventure. It’s a death wish.”

Tendou snickered again, his grin so wide that it nearly split his face. “We’ll see about that. I’m going to ask him. I wonder if he gets lunch at noon like most people. All your employees get lunch at noon, right?”

“Typically, yes.”

Tendou hummed to himself and slid a smug smirk toward Semi. “Then maybe he’ll meet me at the corner at twelve o’clock.”

Semi held his eyes for only a fleeting second before he took the paperwork back. “Thank you, Ushijima-san.”

“Tell Shirabu I need to speak with him sometime this afternoon.”

Semi’s jaw ticked. “Of course, Ushijima-san.”

He gave Tendou a sideways glance as he left the room. Tendou wiggled his fingers in a wave that made Semi quickly look away.

“What did you say his name was again?” Tendou asked when Semi had left.

“Semi Eita,” said Ushijima absently. With the arrival of the documents he’d fallen back into work mode and was clicking away on his computer, probably checking his email. 

“Right, right,” said Tendou. “What’s he like? He seems… different.”

Ushijima clicked a few more times before answering. “Semi is competent. He’s one of the best editors on staff. His only weakness is his eagerness to make a name for himself. He likes to change up articles and coverage and perspectives, and while I appreciate his dedication, that isn’t what’s best for Shiratorizawa. That’s why he is no longer the editor-in-chief.”

Another question had been on the tip of Tendou’s tongue but it drifted away into silence. He sat back in his chair, staring blankly at the window behind Ushijima’s desk as scattered pieces of past conversations clicked together.

The reason Semi had been so adamant about Tendou keeping their hook-up a secret was because he feared it would prevent him from getting his job back.

He was bitter about work every time Tendou brought up the subject and he had made it no secret that he harbored marked disdain for Shirabu.

Tendou didn’t know for sure but he would bet the entirety of his meager savings account that Shirabu was the current editor-in-chief, and that he’d been the one to take Semi’s position from him.

Tendou wished he hadn’t asked. He wanted to know all of these things, but he wanted Semi to be the one to tell him.

“Tendou?” said Ushijima. He’d looked away from his computer. “Are you alright? You look strange.”

Tendou blinked a couple of times, forcing himself to focus. Then he hitched a smile onto his face and said, “Stranger than usual, you mean?”

Ushijima’s mouth flattened a little but it was the only change in his face.

Tendou wondered if there was a reason he was drawn to individuals with limited facial expressions. 

“You’re not strange,” said Ushijima, going back to his work. “You’re just unique.”

“Aww, Waka. I’m touched. Who knew you were such a charmer?”

Ushijima started typing and ignored him. 

Tendou’s mind flashed back to Semi and he checked the time. “I’m going to cut out, Waka. It’s almost noon. I may or may not have a date.”

Ushijima nodded. “Good luck. I hope he truly does like you.”

Tendou’s grin shrank a size smaller, but this time it was actually genuine. “Thanks, Waka.”

Tendou half-hoped that he would run into Semi in the elevator, but he wasn’t that lucky. He strolled out of the stacked office building and walked down to the corner, hoping that his thinly veiled invitation would be accepted. 

Five minutes later, when Tendou’s phone told him noon was a couple of minutes in the past, Semi stepped up beside Tendou and scowled at him. “You could’ve just asked me to go to lunch, you know.”

“I thought that’s what I was doing.”

Semi rolled his eyes. “Let’s go. I need to cut my break a little short. I have a lot of work to finish.”

“Whatever you say, Semi-Semi.” Tendou gestured to the corner restaurant at their backs. “Right this way.”

Semi’s skepticism was apparent and it didn’t fade after they’d ordered their food and seated themselves at a small, cramped table. 

“This place is a dump,” said Semi, his lip curling in distaste as he surveyed the mismatched chairs. “You should’ve listened to Ushijima. This isn’t somewhere you should take your dates.”

“So this is a date?” said Tendou brightly. “If you insist, Semi-Semi.”

Semi scowled, but it wasn’t sharp. 

Tendou drummed his fingers on the table. “So how’s work going?”

Semi shrugged. “Same as usual.”

“Anything fun happen today?”

Semi shook his head, but then seemed to rethink his answer. “Shirabu spilled coffee on himself,” he said. His mouth twitched, and combined with the delighted gleam in his eyes, it was the closest that Tendou had seen to a genuine smile. “He ruined his shirt. It might’ve been the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Tendou tried to forget that he’d accidentally learned why Semi hated Shirabu.

“That’s not very nice, Semi-Semi,” he said with a grin. “Are you sure he spilled it, or did you spill it for him?”

Semi snorted. “It was all Shirabu. He was looking at his phone and he walked right into the copier. It was hilarious.”

Tendou wondered if Semi had laughed. Even if it had been bitter and at someone else’s expense, he would have paid a good sum of money to witness it.

“I didn’t know you were so mean,” said Tendou lightly. “What’d Shirabu ever do to you?”

The gleam in Semi’s eyes was snuffed out. He folded his arms and stared across the restaurant. “I just don’t like him. He’s cocky as shit and tries to boss me around all the time. He’s damn good at kissing Ushijima’s ass, though. I guess that’s how he got the job.”

Tendou knew Ushijima would never make a work decision based on personal preference, but now wasn’t the time to point that out. 

He sighed and looked around, just so he wouldn’t be staring so overtly at Semi.

Semi leaned over the table and slapped his palm down over Tendou’s hand hard enough to sting. “Stop doing that,” he hissed. “It’s annoying as fuck.”

Tendou blinked at him, startled. He must’ve still been tapping his fingers. He hadn’t noticed.

He looked down at the hand pressed over his, then lifted his gaze to meet Semi’s.

Semi stared back and the heat faded out of his scowl. The perpetual creases in his brow smoothed out, leaving his face more open and vulnerable than Tendou had ever seen it.

Tendou flipped his hand over slowly, so he wouldn’t startle Semi into pulling back. He laced their fingers together and they fit together perfectly.

Something about it was more intimate than all the time they’d spent together in Semi’s bedroom. 

“You look good today,” said Tendou, the words spilling out before he could overthink them. “You always do, but I mean, like, dressed up for work. Like, really good.”

A crease reappeared between Semi’s eyebrows, but it wasn’t a scowl. He looked as if he was trying to comprehend something, like Tendou’s words hadn’t quite been clear. 

His tongue darted out to wet his lips and he said, “Thanks. I guess you never wear anything other than lame t-shirts, right?”

Tendou tried to look offended, but the size of his grin probably made it unconvincing. “This is my favorite anime shirt, you uncultured swine.”

“Like I said, lame.” The words were flat, but the corner of Semi’s mouth curled upward. It was a smirk at best, but it was more than Tendou had expected.

Tendou’s mouth suddenly felt dry. He hadn’t thought Semi could be even more appealing, but that wry, half-smile had done it.

“Come over to my place,” he blurted. He squeezed Semi’s hand gently, memorizing the feeling of Semi’s fingers between his own. 

Semi raised a brow. “We haven’t even had lunch yet.”

“I mean tonight. When you’re finished with work.”

Semi frowned and looked down at their linked hands. “I can’t tonight. I’ll probably have to work late.”

“Tomorrow then?” asked Tendou. He hoped he wasn’t being too pushy but he couldn’t stomach the thought of not seeing him again _soon_.

Semi thought it over for a minute, still staring at their hands. Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime, he said, “I guess that’s okay. Meet me after work tomorrow and we’ll get something to eat first. If that’s okay with you.”

“Of course it is, Semi-Semi!” said Tendou. He was speaking a little too loudly, but he was too pleased to care. “Anything you want!”

Semi looked away, a little flustered by his enthusiasm.

Their food was carried over directly after that and they were forced to withdraw their hands to their respective sides of the table. Still, Tendou felt the warmth of Semi’s palm against his like a brand. He wondered what it would be like to be able to reach over and hold Semi’s hand whenever he wanted. 

He hoped he would get a chance to find out.

  
  
  
  
The following day Semi anticipated that he would get off of work at six.

Tendou spent the hours before sketching, half for work and half for pleasure. It should have kept his mind off of Semi but his thoughts kept straying back every ten minutes or so.

Tendou was in too deep, and he knew it, and he didn’t particularly want to fix it.

He left his apartment at five-thirty and started walking, just in case Semi got to leave early. He didn’t want to keep him waiting.

As it turned out, Tendou was the one left waiting.

At six-fifteen he received a text and he could almost read Semi’s exasperation between the digitized lines.

_I’m going to be later than I thought. You can come up and wait if you want._

Tendou thought he’d misread the text. Surely Semi wasn’t actually asking him to come up to his office, where there were _people_ around.

Surely Semi didn’t want anyone to find out that they even knew each other.

Tendou sent back a quick, _Are you sure?_

Thirty seconds ticked past, and then:

_Just get up here._

Tendou entered through the familiar doors, stepped onto the elevator, and selected the sixth floor. He’d only ever been on that floor once, and at the time he hadn’t thought he would ever see it again.

Only a moment later, though, he was walking through the double row of cubicles, gravitating toward Semi’s by memory.

He heard Semi before he saw him. His voice was smooth and level, lacking its usual edge. When Tendou peered around the doorway he found a clear view of Semi’s back. His head was tilted to the side, his desk phone trapped between his ear and his shoulder.

It was unclear exactly what he was talking about, but he was reading a list of dates off of his computer. He had one fingertip pressed against the screen, following the line of numbers.

Tendou leaned against the doorway and waited.

Semi finished the conversation quickly, and as soon as he hung up the phone, Tendou said, “Your professional voice is very impressive, Semi-Semi.”

Semi turned slightly in his chair, unsurprised by his appearance. “Whatever. Sit down, I’ll try to hurry.”

“Don’t rush on my account,” said Tendou breezily. He plopped into the single fold-out chair in Semi’s office, crossed his legs, and grinned. “I’ll just sit here and listen to your business voice. I’m not complaining.”

Semi mumbled something that was probably an insult but it was too quiet for Tendou to be sure. 

“What are you working on there?” asked Tendou, craning his neck to try and get a better view of the screen.

Semi turned back to it and started typing. “When our paid advertisements got submitted the printing dates got messed up. We’re having to call all of them and confirm when they want us to run their ads.”

“Sounds like a hassle.”

“No shit,” said Semi. “Ushijima is really picky about ads, too, so we can’t fuck them up.”

“Waka’s just a big softie,” said Tendou. “Don’t worry about him.”

Semi’s glance was skeptical but he didn’t argue.

Semi kept typing, pausing only to entertain Tendou’s vague questions. After about ten minutes of this routine someone popped into the doorway with such bright enthusiasm that Tendou was nearly blinded by it.

“Semi-san!” the boy said, loudly. “Shirabu-san wants to know if you’ve finished compiling your data!”

His eyes darted to Tendou briefly and then back to Semi. He stood a little taller.

Semi’s eye twitched. “He’ll have it in his hand as soon as I’m done. Give me ten minutes.”

“Yes, Semi-san!”

“Hey kid, nice haircut,” said Tendou, grinning up at him. “Looks super cool.”

All expression fell off of the boy’s face. Then he beamed, his smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. “You really think so?”

“Yeah, definitely,” said Tendou, ignoring Semi’s flat stare. “Mine used to be kind of like that. Only my bangs weren’t as neat.”

The boy swelled beneath the praise. “I don’t know who you are, but thank you!”

Semi gave a long-suffering sigh. “This is Tendou Satori. Tendou, this is Goshiki Tsutomu. He’s an intern.”

Goshiki’s eyes widened. He looked from Tendou to Semi and back again. “Tendou-san?” he repeated, awestruck. “The Tendou-san who draws the comics?”

Tendou liked this kid already.

“That’s me!” he said brightly.

“I love your comics!” Goshiki shouted. “My favorite one was in February, the one where-”

“Goshiki,” said Semi sharply, cutting him off. “Don’t you need to report back to Shirabu?”

“Oh, right! Thank you, Semi-san! It was nice to meet you, Tendou-san!” 

“Bye-bye!” said Tendou, waving as Goshiki skipped away from the door. He turned to Semi, still grinning. “That was adorable.”

“That was annoying,” said Semi, though there was no real feeling behind the comment. 

Slowly, a head emerged over the low cubicle wall from the office adjacent to Semi’s. It belonged to a man with tawny hair and heavy eyes.

“You’re Tendou Satori?” he asked, raising a brow.

“The one and only,” said Tendou. 

The man made a humming sound, then looked to Semi. “Why’s the comic guy here? I thought he sent all his stuff in through email.”

Tendou was glad the question had been posed to Semi and not him. He wasn’t sure how he would’ve answered.

If he’d had to guess, Tendou would have expected Semi to say something along the lines of, “None of your fucking business.”

That wasn’t exactly how it happened.

“We’re going to get dinner,” said Semi, inflectionless. He didn’t stop typing. “Tendou, this is Kawanishi Taichi. He’s not the biggest pain in my ass but he’s in the top three.”

Kawanishi gave a mock salute. “Nice to meet you. I’m a fan of your work.”

Tendou wasn’t sure if he was being sarcastic or if that was just his normal tone.

Before he could figure it out, Kawanishi sank back down below the barrier of the cubicle wall.

Semi didn’t notice Tendou’s stare of disbelief. He typed rapidly for another moment, clicked a few times, and rose from his chair. “I need to go tell Shirabu this is finished and then we can go. Give me just a minute.”

“Take all the time you need, Semi-Semi.”

When he was gone Tendou sat in mild shock, numbly surprised that Semi had actually admitted to someone that they were going out together.

Semi had been so adamant for Ushijima to know nothing about their first meeting. Tendou didn’t understand how Semi could mention it so calmly to one of his coworkers, as if there was nothing strange about it. 

Even if it hadn’t been for the Ushijima factor it was still surprising. Tendou figured Semi would want to keep it a secret just because of Tendou himself. Tendou wasn’t exactly someone to be proud of.

He wasn’t like Semi, who deserved to be shown off at every available opportunity.

He was still trying to puzzle it out when he noticed a small stack of single newspaper pages stacked on a shelf above Semi’s computer. It wasn’t out of place considering the type of business, but the placement was strange. Tendou stood and wandered over, peeking at the top page.

A jolt of recognition stole his breath and he found himself staring down at his own art. It was one of the comics he’d drawn for last week’s issue, the page folded neatly to display the strip. Tendou flipped through the stack with long fingers. Every page was another episode of the comic, in reverse chronological order. If Tendou didn’t know any better he would have thought Semi had been collecting them.

There was movement in the hallway and Tendou quickly threw himself back into his chair. Semi stomped into the office and grabbed his coat, scowl deeper than Tendou had seen it in a while. “Let’s go,” he said. “I need to get out of this office before I strangle him.”

“Do what you need to do,” said Tendou. “I’ll be your alibi.”

Semi didn’t smile but the heaviness of his expression lifted. “Shut up, Tendou. Come on, I’ve already decided where I want to go. After that nasty-ass lunch yesterday you’re not allowed to choose anymore.”

Tendou grinned and followed him out of the cubicle. “Whatever you say, Semi-Semi.”


	8. Chapter 8

Dinner was nice, but the walk home was even nicer.

When they were a block away from the restaurant, walking toward Tendou’s apartment, Tendou reached out and brushed his knuckles against the back of Semi’s hand. Semi threw a sideways glance at him, considering, and then slipped his fingers between Tendou’s.

Tendou smiled all the way home.

His apartment was nothing fancy, but Semi’s hadn’t been, either, so he wasn’t self-conscious. Semi glanced around as he took off his shoes, assessing the space with mild interest, and then dismissed the apartment in favor of Tendou. 

“Why are you staring at me?”

Tendou hadn’t realized he’d been staring, but since he’d been caught, he saw no reason to stop. “I don’t know. I just like looking at you.”

“You’re weird.”

“Yeah.”

Semi rolled his eyes and stepped further into the apartment. “Is that the bedroom?” he said, pointing toward a closed door. 

Tendou nodded and Semi took that as an invitation to enter. Tendou followed a few steps behind, his heartbeat picking up just from the thought of Semi Eita in his bedroom.

Semi stopped in the middle of the room and pushed his hair back as he looked around. He gave minimal attention to the desk and its scatter of drawing utensils, and he didn’t even seem to notice the haphazard pile of clothes that Tendou had forgotten to pick up. His interest was captured by the spread of art that claimed an entire wall. There were paintings and sketches and prints, some of them framed, others held in place by brightly colored push pins. 

Tendou hovered in the doorway, just watching.

“I knew you were an artist, but damn,” said Semi. “I didn’t know you were so obsessed with this kind of stuff. Some of these must’ve cost a lot of money.” He leaned in to study one of the full-color paintings. It was an abstract piece, swirled with sweeps of blue and silver and gold. 

“They didn’t cost anything,” said Tendou. “I did them.”

Semi looked over his shoulder, clearly skeptical. “You painted this?”

Tendou shrugged. “Yeah?”

“I thought you just did comics and shit.”

“That’s all I get paid for. I do other stuff, too. Why? Do you like it?”

Semi slowly looked back at the painting. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, it’s okay.”

Tendou shuffled closer to Semi, grinning, and threw an arm over his shoulders. “I’ll paint you one sometime, Semi-Semi. With lots of black and silver.”

Semi scowled, but when he realized Tendou wasn’t making fun of him, his expression softened. He leaned into Tendou, just briefly, before pulling away. “Where’s your lube?”

Tendou was going to get whiplash from the quick subject change. “Oh, uh. It’s in the drawer over there.”

Semi followed his vague pointing and rifled through the drawer of the nightstand. He tossed a condom onto the bed – which Tendou had actually taken the time to make up that morning – and plucked out the lube before pushing the drawer shut with his hip. 

He passed by Tendou, the lube tucked in his closed fist. “I’ll be right back.”

Tendou seized his wrist and tugged him back. “No, you won’t.”

Semi raised a brow at him. “I’m sorry, I was under the impression that you invited me here to fuck. Was I wrong?”

“Yes.”

“Yes I was wrong or yes you want to fuck me?”

Tendou felt like he was going to combust. “Both.”

“Tendou, that doesn’t really-”

“I invited you here to spend time with you,” said Tendou. “If we end up doing anything that’s fine, but that’s not the reason you’re here. That’s never the reason I want to be with you.”

Semi considered that. “Okay, well I want to, so…” He tried to shake free of Tendou’s grip but Tendou didn’t relent.

“Let me,” said Tendou, holding out his other hand for the lube.

Semi just stared at him. “Let you what?”

“Let me take care of you.”

Semi’s face scrunched in what was almost a wince. “Stop being weird.”

“I’m not being weird.” Tendou stepped closer, still keeping Semi’s wrist wrapped loosely in his fingers. He pressed his other hand against the side of Semi’s face, his thumb smoothing over a sharp cheekbone. “Last time we made a deal, remember? So this time we’re doing it my way. This is how I want to do it.”

Semi leaned into his touch, then realized what he was doing and shook his head. “I don’t remember agreeing to that.”

“Don’t lie to me, Semi-Semi,” said Tendou. He released Semi’s wrist and cradled Semi’s face between both of his hands. “You said if I did it how you wanted then this time we’d do it my way. You were naked on top of me when we made the deal. I remember it clearly.”

Semi tried to scowl but Tendou’s thumbs brushing back and forth over his face made it difficult. “What if I don’t want to?”

“Then we won’t,” said Tendou quietly. 

Semi looked away. Tendou lowered his hands to gently cup Semi’s neck, his thumbs still smoothing across his jaw line. 

“I’m not going to do anything that makes you uncomfortable, Eita,” said Tendou. “I hope you know that by now.”

Semi swallowed. Tendou felt it against the heel of his hand. 

“I won’t hurt you,” added Tendou.

“I’m not worried about that,” said Semi. His voice was tight. “That’s the exact opposite of what I’m worried about.”

His head was turned so Tendou leaned down to press his lips against the corner of Semi’s mouth. “If you say stop I’ll stop.”

“I know that.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

Semi took Tendou’s hands in his and peeled them away. He took a step back and held their hands loosely between them, staring down at their curled fingers. He seemed to be struggling with his words, brow furrowed, mouth quirked to one side. 

Finally he said, “What do you want me to do?”

Relief eased the tension in Tendou’s shoulders. “Nothing, Semi-Semi,” he murmured. “You don’t have to do anything. Just let me take care of you.”

His kissed him, a bare brush of lips, so gentle that they almost weren’t even touching.

He pried the lube away from Semi and tossed it behind them onto the bed. Then he again cupped Semi’s face between his hands and kissed him properly.

Semi’s lips were warm, soft, and surprisingly pliant beneath Tendou’s attention. His face was tilted up toward Tendou, like a flower seeking the sun. He was the most beautiful flower Tendou had ever seen.

Tendou trailed soft kisses past the corner of Semi’s mouth, along his jaw, and down his neck. It was a gentle scatter of quick, chaste presses. Semi’s hands bunched in the front of Tendou’s shirt, fists tightening as Tendou pulled back to look at him.

“Have I told you you’re pretty?” said Tendou, all traces of teasing washed away from his face.

Semi fidgeted beneath the compliment, eyes skating to the side. “Stop it.”

“You are,” said Tendou. He pressed another kiss to Semi’s temple, his cheekbone, his jaw. “I could just look at you forever.”

Semi’s face warmed beneath his lips as a blush tinted his cheeks. “You’ve said that.”

“I’ll probably say it again, too. Get used to it.”

Semi’s scowl was half-hearted and it vanished as Tendou threaded long fingers through his hair. The strands were like liquid silk, pale and perfect, the ends darkened nearly to black. 

Tendou kept stroking Semi’s hair and after a moment of it Semi opened his eyes. He was clearly waiting for Tendou to pull his hair.

He would have to keep waiting.

Tendou kissed him again, once, twice, before withdrawing and loosely tugging at Semi’s wrist. Semi followed and let Tendou guide him onto a seat at the edge of the bed. Tendou knelt in front of him, rested the side of his face on Semi’s thigh, and just looked up at him.

Semi reached out to brush away a strand of hair that had fallen to tickle Tendou’s forehead. His fingers lingered at Tendou’s temple for a fleeting moment before he pulled it back and grabbed a handful of sheets to stop himself from doing it again.

Tendou smiled, and it wasn’t the usual one with an edge of teasing or mockery. It was gentle, fond, as warm as the affection in his eyes. 

Semi swallowed and looked away from him. “Stop staring at me.”

“That’s not as easy as it sounds, Semi-Semi.” He sat up on his knees and started unhooking the buttons of Semi’s shirt one by one, peeling it away to reveal the plain white undershirt beneath. When it draped open freely Tendou pushed it off of Semi’s shoulders. Semi wormed his arms out of the sleeves and tossed it to the side. 

Tendou tugged at the hem of Semi’s undershirt, freeing it from the tuck of his pants. His fingers crept beneath it and he smoothed his hands along Semi’s stomach and across his ribs. When he edged the shirt up Semi obligingly raised his arms and Tendou tugged it over his head. 

Tendou spread a hand against Semi’s chest and pushed back, gently. Semi leaned with it and shifted toward the middle of the bed, drawing his legs up onto the mattress. Tendou followed and stretched out on top of him, suspending his weight on his hands and knees, dipping his head to kiss Semi again.

Semi’s hands clutched in the front of his shirt, bunching into twin fists. When Tendou pulled back for a breath Semi yanked upward and Tendou shifted his weight to facilitate the removal of his shirt. As soon as it was over his head Semi gripped the back of his neck and pulled him down, mouth pressing against his with urgency.

Tendou made a muffled sound and pried himself away, still hovering just above Semi’s face. Semi’s breath was hot against his lips.

“Are you eager, Semi-Semi?”

“You’re just too slow. If you’d let me do it my way you’d already be fucking me by now.”

“And that’s why we’re not doing it your way.” Tendou grinned and dropped a smattering of kisses onto Semi’s cheek. Semi groaned and shoved him away. “Just trust me, okay?”

Semi’s expression was a little guarded but he dropped his head back against the mattress with a sigh. “Yeah, whatever. Just get on with it.”

Tendou ducked his head to mouth at Semi’s neck, sucking lightly against the skin, carefully avoiding the press of teeth he knew Semi was hoping for. He inched downward, leaving a trail with his lips and his tongue, sucking a light mark here and there. Semi fidgeted beneath him but remained quiet, only an occasional hiss sliding between his teeth.

Tendou licked along the jut of Semi’s hip, nuzzled against his ribs, and propped himself up on his elbows, looking up at Semi from between his legs.

Semi had pushed himself up just far enough to watch him. His lips were parted slightly, his exhales audible in the hush of the room. There was a touch of color on each of his cheeks, just underneath his bright eyes.

Tendou hooked a finger in the waistband of Semi’s pants and tugged, gently. “Can I?”

“If you don’t then I’ll do it my fucking self.”

“You have such a dirty mouth, Semi-Semi,” grinned Tendou as he slowly unfastened Semi’s pants. “I hope no one ever lets you around their children.”

“I don’t like kids,” said Semi. He collapsed back again and raised his hips so Tendou could tug down his pants. “They’re annoying.”

“You think everyone is annoying.”

“Yeah. You’re the most annoying, though.”

Tendou pulled the pants off one leg at a time, peeled Semi’s socks off, and tossed everything into the floor. He resettled between Semi’s legs and ran his fingers along the edge of Semi’s underwear, dipping beneath to rub lightly over hidden skin.

“Just take them off.”

“Patience, Semi-Semi.”

“I’ve already used up my patience dealing with Shirabu’s shit all day.”

“You really know how to kill the mood, don’t you?”

Tendou cupped Semi through his underwear, softly kneading his hardening erection. Semi made a sound somewhere between a curse and a sigh. “Finally.”

Tendou let go immediately. Before Semi could protest he tugged at the underwear and Semi bucked his hips up. Tendou slid them off and tossed them to the side. He stared down at Semi long enough to make him fidget. 

“Stop _looking_.”

“Some things need to be appreciated.”

“We’re fucking, not sightseeing.”

Tendou trailed a light fingertip down Semi’s length, from head to base. Semi shuddered and Tendou said, “With you it’s the same thing.”

He licked the same trail that his finger had traced, and Semi twitched beneath him. Tendou took him into his mouth, sucked the head past his lips, and Semi keened. He tried to push his hips up but Tendou held him down, suckling lightly, head angled so he could still see Semi’s face.

“Dammit, Tendou.” Semi peeked down, realized Tendou was watching him, and threw an arm over his own eyes like a shield. “If you’re just going to tease me all night I’m leaving.”

Tendou pulled off and laved sloppy kisses along his length. “I’m not teasing you,” he said. “I just want to take this slow and enjoy it.”

“This isn’t slow. This is fucking glacial.”

“Can you stop complaining for five minutes?”

Semi grumbled something under his breath but it was cut off by a muffled groan when Tendou fitted his lips around him and bobbed his head down.

Tendou set a rhythm. It was slow and torturous, but it was a rhythm. His hands stayed on Semi’s upper thighs, holding him in place, fingers gently kneading into the flesh. Occasionally a breathy sound would leak from Semi’s lips but it was clear he was trying to keep his voice to himself.

Tendou pulled off and returned to wide, sweeping licks. He released one of Semi’s hips and inched his hand over the sheets, grabbing at the lube that had been discarded. He kept his mouth moving as he popped the cap and coated his fingers. When he prodded at Semi’s entrance, he immediately went rigid.

Semi pushed himself up on his elbows to look down at Tendou with a furrowed brow. His cheeks were pinker, the color spreading toward his ears. “You don’t have to do that,” he said. He was just a shade breathless. “I can do it myself.”

“I know. I want to.”

“Why? You’re not getting anything out of it.”

“If I can make you feel good then I’m getting a lot out of it.”

Semi looked unconvinced but didn’t protest as Tendou pushed inside, the lube easing the slide. The first finger went easily and Tendou dipped his head down to mouth at Semi’s dick as he pressed in the second. Semi’s residual tension made it a tight fit, but the more Tendou’s tongue circled, the easier it became. Tendou spread his fingers apart, furthering the stretch, and Semi fidgeted. 

“That’s good enough,” said Semi. His voice was raspy. 

Tendou pulled off with a _pop_. He looked up at Semi and tilted his head. Semi’s dick poked into his cheek but he didn’t mind. “It’s not good enough. I want you to be comfortable.”

“I’d be more comfortable if you’d hurry up and-” 

The demand was cut short when Tendou fitted a third finger inside him. Semi made a strangled sound and fell back, again throwing an arm over his face.

Tendou worked his fingers in and out, still pinning Semi to the bed by his hip, his eyes fixed on Semi’s half-hidden face. His kept the pace slow, his knuckles catching on the rim as he dragged his fingers out, curling slightly as he pushed back in.

It took several tries but when he twisted his fingers at just the right angle, Semi jolted so hard that his hips rose off of the bed, despite Tendou’s steadying grip. Semi’s cry was clipped in half as he clicked his teeth together, a failed attempt to suppress the sound.

Tendou nuzzled against the inside of Semi’s thigh and pressed a handful of kisses against the hot skin. He curled his fingers again, and again, until he felt Semi shaking against his cheek. 

Slowly he pulled out and wiped his hand on the sheets. They were going to need a thorough washing anyway.

He backed off of Semi and worked at the button of his own jeans. He was so hard that it was painful. When he unzipped his pants and gave himself a little more room he breathed a sigh of relief.

He stripped quickly and reached for the condom that Semi had tossed onto the bed. Semi watched Tendou closely as he rolled it on and spread a little more lube over the latex.

When Tendou crawled back over Semi, hands braced on either side of his ribcage, Semi said nothing. The flush on his face was spreading. It had eased down his neck and blotted across his chest like patchwork.

Tendou fluttered a cluster of kisses over Semi’s collarbone, tasting the bright blush. “Are you ready, Semi-Semi?”

“I’ve been ready for an hour,” said Semi. There was no longer a bite to his voice. He relaxed into the sensation of Tendou’s lips moving over his chest. 

“You’ve only been in my apartment for half that.”

“I was ready before we even got here.”

Tendou huffed a laugh, the hot air puffing over one of Semi’s nipples. 

“Hey,” said Tendou, suddenly serious.

Semi opened his eyes. 

“I’m glad you came over.” Tendou pressed a kiss to the corner of Semi’s mouth. 

“Yeah,” said Semi. He cupped a hand at the back of Tendou’s neck and pulled him down. “Me too.”

The kiss was slow. Apparently Semi’s sense of urgency had faded. Their lips moved together, a spit-dampened slide, occasionally punctuated by a swipe of tongue. Semi threaded both of his hands into Tendou’s hair and coaxed him even closer, sucking at Tendou’s bottom lip, grazing it with his teeth.

Tendou slipped one hand between them to guide himself into Semi. 

Semi broke away from the kiss, his back arching as Tendou pushed inside him. He threw his head back and Tendou descended on his bare throat, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses as he slid all the way in.

Tendou moaned against Semi’s neck. They’d done this before but the feeling of being buried inside of Semi was still almost overwhelming. In fact, it was even more breathtaking now than it had been the first time, because now he knew Semi. He knew him and he cared about him.

Semi hitched a leg over Tendou’s hip, trying to force him in deeper. His hands tightened in Tendou’s hair and his breath stuttered between his parted lips. His eyes had closed again and Tendou felt his chest heaving beneath him. 

“Eita,” he said. The name was honey on his tongue and Semi shivered. “God, you’re beautiful.”

Semi turned his head to the side, as if trying to escape the compliment. Tendou expected him to argue, to snap back with some sort of command or insult, but his silence persisted.

Slowly, so slowly that Tendou could feel _everything_ , he pulled back out, until he was only nudging at Semi’s entrance. When he pushed back in it was with the same dragging pace, and both of them felt every centimeter of the slide.

Tendou rolled his hips forward and back in a slow grind. His chest was pressed against Semi’s, sweat sticking between their skin. He shifted his weight to one arm, keeping the torturous pace, and pressed a hand against the side of Semi’s face. He brushed his thumb over Semi’s cheekbone and kissed him, slowly and deeply, his tongue dipping into Semi’s mouth. 

Semi’s hands dragged through Tendou’s hair and settled on his shoulders, his grip so tight that his fingers started to shake. 

It took Tendou a moment to realize it wasn’t just Semi’s fingers that were shaking, but all of him.

He pulled back with a parting swipe of his tongue and gazed down at Semi, who shivered beneath him.

Tendou kept the motion of his hips, the slow grind, and brushed his fingers through Semi’s hair. Semi leaned away from the touch, half of his face pressed against the sheets.

Tendou stopped halfway inside of him.

“Eita?” he asked. His voice was quiet, but still the loudest thing in the hush of the room. “Are you okay?”

Semi clenched his eyes shut more tightly and a choked sound split the air between them.

“ _Eita_?” Tendou slipped a hand between Semi’s jaw and the sheets, coaxing his face up. “What’s wrong? Did I do something?”

Semi shook his head and tried to bury his face again but Tendou gripped his chin and held him in place. 

There was another sound, muffled by Semi’s clenched teeth. Tendou felt a touch of hot moisture against the tip of his finger. A tear trickled down the side of Semi’s face, disappearing into his hair.

Tendou’s heart stopped. He moved to pull out but Semi dug his fingers into Tendou’s waist and kept him there. “Don’t,” said Semi, his voice thick.

“You should’ve said I was hurting you.”

“You’re not,” said Semi. “Keep going.”

“Eita, I-”

“ _Please_.” Semi opened his eyes. They were brightened by a sheen of moisture, tears beaded at the corners of his lashes. “Tendou, please.”

Tendou’s throat was tight. He pressed his mouth against Semi’s and resumed the slow pace, sliding in and out of Semi like he was made to be there.

Semi shuddered beneath him and clung to Tendou like he was he was about to fall. His breath was hot and heavy, fingers sliding in the sweat gathered in the small of Tendou’s back. 

Tendou reached between them and wrapped his fingers around Semi’s length. Semi jolted at the contact, a low moan slipping between his lips. Tendou swallowed the sound and started stroking, his wrist moving slowly to keep time with his thrusts.

He pulled away from the kiss, eyes on Semi’s face, and watched him unravel. 

Semi threw his head back with a full-body shudder, limbs clutching around Tendou, teeth gnawing into his bottom lip. The sound that tumbled from his mouth was half-moan, half-whine. He came with Tendou’s name on his lips, a desperate whisper that made Tendou’s chest tight.

When Semi was spent, Tendou closed his eyes and focused only on sensation, of Semi still clenching around him as he came down from his orgasm. He lowered his head and inhaled Semi’s scent, tasted the sweat-slick skin of Semi’s neck, listened to the low, gasping breaths in Semi’s mouth.

He was surrounded by Semi completely, in every way, and it was perfect.

After a few more slow thrusts he came, burying his face in Semi’s neck, a hoarse whisper of “Eita” hanging on the air between them.

There was no immediate need to move, for either of them. They stayed that way, Tendou half-laying on Semi, forehead pressed against his shoulder, still inside him.

Finally Semi stirred and Tendou pulled out with a wince. He rolled onto his side to free Semi, who roughly wiped away the moisture clinging to his lashes.

“I need to clean up,” said Semi, his voice low. “Can I use your shower?”

“Anything I have is yours.”

Semi looked at him, eyes wide. Then he blinked and looked away again. “Thanks.”

He started to get up, but Tendou caught his wrist. “Will you stay tonight?”

Semi kept his face turned away. “I don’t know. I have to work tomorrow.”

“Please?”

For a moment Semi was silent. Then he said, voice rough, “Yeah, okay. I’ll stay.”

Tendou smiled as Semi’s wrist slipped through his fingers. He padded to the bathroom doorway and paused. 

“Do you, uh…” Semi trailed off, the words fragmenting. “Do you want to shower with me?”

Tendou’s smile grew. “Sure, Semi-Semi.”

“You can call me Eita,” said Semi as he stepped through the doorway, the words so quiet that Tendou barely heard.

Tendou remained in place, frozen, until he heard rushing water from the adjacent room. He pressed a hand to his face but it didn’t feel nearly as hot against his palm as it should have. Tendou felt like he was on fire in the best possible way.

He staggered out of the bed and went to join Semi.

_Eita._

He thought that maybe, just maybe, Eita really did like him after all.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this is it! I've had so much fun with this story. Thank you guys for all the kudos and comments and support! All of you are the reason I've stuck with the Haikyuu fandom for so long.
> 
> Please forgive this sappy ending. I just want these two nerds to be happy.

An hour later the two of them were wrapped up in the freshly changed sheets of Tendou’s bed, their hair damp and smelling of Tendou’s forest-scented shampoo.

Eita’s head was pillowed on Tendou’s chest, one of Tendou’s arms looped around his shoulders. His weight was warm and perfect and Tendou thought he’d never felt more relaxed in his entire life. 

He pressed a kiss against the top of Eita’s head and received a muffled grumble in return.

It was only nine-thirty but neither of them had felt like staying up. They’d been physically depleted and Eita would have to get up earlier than usual to make a quick trip back to his apartment before work. If Eita had to rise early, Tendou planned to do the same and suffer with him.

It was a strange shift in Tendou’s sleep schedule and he was wide awake, but he was glad for it. He didn’t want to miss out on a moment of Eita.

“Hey,” he said quietly. He knew Eita wasn’t asleep yet. Occasionally he shifted, his bare legs rubbing against Tendou’s. “Why’d you tell that guy at work you were going out with me?”

Eita flopped an arm over Tendou’s stomach and nestled closer. “It was the truth.”

“Well yeah, but I thought you didn’t want anyone to know.”

Tendou felt Eita’s sigh rather than heard it. It ghosted over his chest, heat against warm flesh. “I don’t care if anyone knows.”

He didn’t sound like he was quite finished so Tendou kept quiet. 

“It’s just…” started Eita. He fidgeted a little and Tendou stroked his fingers through Eita’s damp hair. “I don’t want Ushijima – or anyone, really, but especially him – to know about… about the other stuff.” He pressed his face harder into Tendou’s chest, like he was trying to burrow away. When he spoke again his voice was muffled. “I don’t want them to know I’m... I'm _fucked up_ , you know? Or that I’ve picked up so many different guys and I’m kind of a slut, or that I-”

“Stop it,” said Tendou, the words quiet but firm. He shifted Eita off of him and adjusted onto his side so they were lying face to face. “Don’t talk about yourself like that. It’s not true.”

“What’s not true about it?”

“All of it. You like what you like, there’s nothing wrong with it. And it doesn’t matter how many people you’ve been with or want to be with. It’s no one’s business.”

Eita looked away from him but he wasn’t scowling. The furrow in his brow was pensive rather than aggressive. Tendou reached out and traced his fingertips from Eita’s elbow to his shoulder.

Eita seemed to relax a little beneath the touch, the crease in his forehead relenting. “You know those guys I picked up at the club? The ones I left with when you were there watching?”

It took extreme effort for Tendou to keep his hand gliding up and down along Eita’s arm. He was quite familiar with the men to whom Eita was referring. “Yeah.” 

Eita looked at Tendou, something open and vulnerable in his eyes. Then he ducked his head a little and said, “I didn’t fuck them. I knew you were there and I knew you would see, so I just left the club with them and then dumped them at the corner. I didn’t take any of them home. I didn’t want to. I just wanted to see if you’d get jealous and do something stupid. I was waiting for you to give me another reason to hate you because the first one wasn’t quite enough.”

Tendou’s hand stilled. He soaked in that admission and raised his fingertips to trace the line of Eita’s jaw. “I was jealous,” said Tendou. “I was all kinds of jealous. But it was your business, not mine. I wouldn’t have done anything.”

“I know,” mumbled Eita. “I just wanted you to know. The Saturday after we stopped talking I picked someone up because I was so mad. But after that… I haven’t fucked anyone since then. I just haven’t wanted to. It was the longest I’ve gone without sex in a while.”

Tendou didn’t know what to say to that. He was certain if he opened his mouth something unbelievably sappy would come out and Eita would scowl at him again.

Eita flattened a hand over Tendou’s, pinning his palm to Eita’s face. “I’ve fucked a lot of people but I don’t do that when I’m dating someone. You don’t have to worry about it.”

Tendou’s eyes flew wide. “We’re _dating_?”

Eita tipped his head up to look at him, one eyebrow raised. “You don’t want to?”

“Of course I want to,” said Tendou quickly. “I just didn’t think… didn’t know… if that’s something you’d even want.”

“Usually I don’t like dating,” said Eita. He flipped his hand and threaded his fingers through Tendou’s. “I think it’s okay this time, though. But if you tell anyone about all this nice shit I’ve said I’ll kill you.”

Tendou snorted a laugh. He raised their linked hands and pressed a kiss to the back of Eita’s knuckles. “Your secret is safe with me, Semi-Semi.”

Eita smiled up at him. It was just a small curve of his lips but it was genuine, and it made Tendou’s insides melt.

Eita moved closer, draped an arm over Tendou’s waist, and tilted his head up for a kiss. It was slow and chaste and brief, but possibly the best kiss Tendou had ever had.

“Have you really not told Ushijima about this?” said Eita when he settled back onto Tendou’s spare pillow.

“No. I thought you wanted it to be a secret.”

Eita studied him, his eyes reflecting the slice of light that glowed from the cracked bathroom door. Tendou didn’t like sleeping in complete darkness and Eita didn’t seem to mind. 

“You can tell him,” said Eita. “I mean, if you want to. If you don’t then that’s fine. I won’t tell anyone either.”

Tendou lunged at him so quickly that Eita startled and tried to crawl away. Tendou seized him around the waist and hugged him close, his face pressed into Eita’s shoulder. “Of course I want to tell him,” he said, the words wrapped in a grin. “I want to tell everyone. Even strangers on the street.”

Eita scoffed, but he draped an arm around Tendou, too. “You’re so lame.”

“You like me anyway.”

There was a pause. Then Eita’s fingers combed through Tendou’s hair and he said, “Yeah, I guess I do.”

They stayed like that for a while, bundled together and legs intertwined, until Eita eventually drifted to sleep. Tendou listened to his steady breaths, soaking in the warmth of Eita’s body against his.

Eita was beautiful, probably the most beautiful thing Tendou had ever seen. It was painful for him to think about the things Eita had said, about the way he saw himself. Tendou didn’t care that Eita had slept around in the past, as long as Tendou could have him now. As for Eita’s other concern, his preference for rough treatment, Tendou didn’t mind that, either. If that was what Eita really wanted then he was willing to accommodate at times. Still, he wasn’t sure if that’s what Eita really liked, or if he just thought he didn’t deserve anything better. Maybe Eita thought he didn’t deserve having someone treat him gently. Maybe he thought he didn’t deserve to experience such affection and care. 

Tendou was going to treat him so well that it would be impossible for Eita to think so lowly of himself again.

He fell asleep with Eita curled against his chest and he couldn’t remember having ever been so content.

  
  
  
  
The following afternoon Tendou sat outside of Ushijima’s office, his fingers tapping out an uneven drum beat against the arm of his chair.

He’d wanted to tell Ushijima about Eita first thing that morning. He’d gotten up at an inhuman hour with Eita and had intended to seize the day and head over to Shiratorizawa, but Ushijima had scheduled an entire morning of meetings with Oikawa Tooru of _The Seijoh Times_. 

Tendou had waited until after lunch, but it seemed Ushijima was in a different meeting. It had lasted at least for the past twenty minutes that Tendou had been waiting in the hallway.

He bounced his knee, the heel of his shoe tapping against the floor, and wondered if he should go check in on Eita while he waited. 

It turned out that there was no need. When the door of Ushijima’s office opened a few minutes later, it was Eita who emerged into the hallway.

Tendou’s mood, already bright, burned with the intensity of the sun. “Semi-Semi!” he said. “Fancy meeting you here!” 

Eita blinked at him, startled. Then his eyes narrowed into daggers and he stalked closer. 

Tendou had jumped to his feet to greet him, but now, pinned by the sudden, unexpected sharpness of Eita’s glare, he took a step back.

“What did you say to him?” hissed Eita, his voice low so it wouldn’t float back to Ushijima. “What the fuck did you do?”

Tendou’s breath caught in his throat. He struggled for a moment before he managed to say, “Nothing. I didn’t say anything. I haven’t even told him about us yet.”

Eita’s scowl faltered, touched by uncertainty. “You… didn’t talk to him about me?”

“…no?” said Tendou slowly. “Eita, what’s wrong?”

Eita looked down at the floor, then glanced back at Ushijima’s office. “He offered me a new job. He said Seijoh needs a new editor-in-chief and he recommended me for the position.” His eyes cut back to Tendou. “I thought he only did it because of you.”

Tendou’s grin stretched the corners of his mouth. “I haven’t said anything yet, Semi-Semi. He offered you the job because you deserve it.”

Eita bit his lip, clearly anxious.

“You accepted it, right?” said Tendou. “You took the job?”

“Well yeah,” said Eita. His mouth twitched and slowly curved into a smile. “I’m not stupid.”

Tendou slipped his arms around Eita’s waist and pulled him into a hug. “Congratulations, Semi-Semi,” he murmured into the side of Eita’s hair. “Let me take you out to dinner later to celebrate.”

“We spent all last night together,” said Eita. “Aren’t you tired of me yet?”

Tendou hummed. “Ask me again in about ten years. I’ll still say no.”

Eita huffed a breath against his shoulder that almost sounded like a laugh. He pulled back a little and said, “You know, whoever draws the comics for Seijoh is a shit artist. Maybe if you’re nice to me I’ll put in a good word for you.”

“I don’t know,” said Tendou airily. “Being nice to you is so difficult. I’m not sure if it’s worth it.”

Eita tilted his head back and pressed a quick kiss against Tendou’s mouth. “I have to get back downstairs. I can’t wait to tell Shirabu about my new job.” This time his grin was vicious and Tendou loved it all the same.

“Don’t start a fight, Semi-Semi,” said Tendou. He gave Eita one last, gentle squeeze before releasing him. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.” Eita was a few steps away before he turned back. “Hey, uh… you don’t think Ushijima’s going to mind, do you?”

“No, of course not. Waka won’t care.”

Eita nodded but still looked a touch unconvinced. “Okay. Let me know what happens.”

He paced toward the elevator and Tendou branched into Ushijima’s office.

Ushijima was behind his desk, which was expected. He sat with his elbows on the table, forehead resting on his closed fists, which was not.

“Uh, Waka?” said Tendou, creeping further inside. 

Ushijima raised his head. “Hello, Tendou.”

“You alright?”

Ushijima sighed. “Oikawa was in my office for three hours this morning. I am exhausted.”

Tendou grinned. “It’s good to see you making new friends, Waka. I’m so proud.”

“We are not friends,” said Ushijima with a grimace. “I am fairly certain he hates me.”

“I doubt that,” said Tendou. “You’re very likable.”

Ushijima didn’t look convinced.

“So, uh…” Tendou trailed off, wondering how to start the conversation. He should probably just come out and say it. Ushijima responded best to bluntness. 

Instead of the confession, what he blurted was, “I heard you’re sending Semi over to Oikawa’s place to work for him.”

Ushijima seemed a touch confused by the subject. “Not exactly. Semi will still be under my employ. His services are being contracted out, if you will. Oikawa is in dire need of an editor-in-chief to revamp his paper.”

“That’s awfully generous of you,” said Tendou, “considering he’s your competition.”

“I like Oikawa,” said Ushijima. “Even if he does not like me in return.”

Tendou wondered if there was additional context behind that, but chose not to go into it. He doubted there was anything more than an unusual friendship between them. Ushijima had never been interested in anything more with anyone. “Why’d you pick Semi? If you’re trying to help Oikawa then Shirabu would be the best choice, right?”

Ushijima shook his head. “Shirabu is best for Shiratorizawa because he is traditional and reliable. Semi has great drive and creativity but it does not best represent our paper. Seijoh, however, is well known for surprising stories that are out of the ordinary. I believe Semi will do well there.”

“Yeah, I think he will.”

Ushijima looked at him with that flat, unassuming stare, and Tendou knew this was the best chance he was going to get.

“About Semi,” started Tendou. He fidgeted a bit and realized he hadn’t even sat down when he’d entered the office. He did so now, plopping into his usual chair in front of Ushijima’s desk. “Semi and I are… we’re kind of… dating.”

Ushijima’s face didn’t change. “Kind of?”

“We’re dating,” said Tendou again, with more confidence. “We met at a club and got to know each other and I really like him, Waka.”

Ushijima’s brows knitted together. “What about the other man you were going out with? You shouldn’t lead him on, Tendou.”

Tendou laughed; he couldn’t help it. “That was Semi, too. I just didn’t want to tell you about it yet.”

Ushijima looked very puzzled. Gradually his expression cleared and he said, “So you were concerned that Semi did not like you in return. He is the one you were talking about.”

“Yeah, that was him.”

“So he does like you.”

Tendou smiled. “Yeah, I think he does.”

Ushijima nodded, as if that settled the matter. “Good. I hope the two of you are very happy.”

“Thanks, Waka!” said Tendou. It was only when he felt the wash of relief that he realized he’d been just a little anxious about this conversation.

“However, I would appreciate if you do not allow your relationship to disrupt our work environment.”

“But Semi’s going to Seijoh, right?” said Tendou. “So technically I’ll be disrupting Oikawa’s work environment.”

Ushijima considered that. “Then perhaps an occasional disruption would be acceptable.”

Tendou grinned. “Waka, have I told you lately you’re my best friend?”

“Yes,” said Ushijima. “You say it quite frequently.”

“’Cause it’s true,” said Tendou. He leaped out of his chair and added, “I’m going to go downstairs and tell Eita we have your blessing.”

As he hustled out the door he heard Ushijima call out, “Don’t disrupt the work environment!”

Tendou waved him off. He wasn’t making any promises.

When he pranced into the offices on the floor below he received a few strange stares. He simply grinned at the onlookers and kept walking. He arrived at Eita’s cubicle only to find it vacant. 

Eita’s cellphone was beside his keyboard, though, so Tendou knew he was around somewhere. 

He peeked into the adjacent cubicle instead and had to check the name plate on the outside to remember the name of the man within. “Hey, Kawanishi-kun. What’s up?”

Kawanishi threw a lazy stare over his shoulder. “Tendou Satori. Back again so soon?”

“There’s nowhere I’d rather be,” said Tendou with mock solemnity. “Do you know where Semi is?”

Kawanishi made a vague gesture toward the wall. “In Shirabu’s office, I think. Not really sure.”

“Alright, thanks!”

Tendou started in the general direction of Kawanishi’s gesture, uncertain exactly where he was going. 

When he reached the windows that lined the wall, he noticed a large office with a fancy gold nameplate that read “Shirabu Kenjirou, Editor-in-Chief.”

Tendou knew that Eita’s name had previously been there and that he’d likely worked out of the same office. He imagined how much it must have hurt Eita to have the position yanked from beneath him, and then decided he didn’t want to think about it, after all.

The door was open and Tendou caught a snatch of Eita’s voice. He peered around the edge of the doorway and found Eita standing with his arms folded, speaking to another man who sat behind a large desk, his expression reflecting relative boredom.

Shirabu caught sight of Tendou from the corner of his eye and looked away from Eita to stare at him. Eita followed his gaze and raised a brow at the interruption. He didn’t look annoyed. His expression was light, a subtle curve pulling at his mouth. His eyes were bright and he looked _happy_.

Tendou took that as an invitation, although this conversation definitely had nothing to do with him. He strolled into the office with his signature lopsided grin. “Hello, Editor-in-Chief.” He tilted his head at Shirabu. “And you, too, Shirabu-san.”

Eita’s lips curled up a little further, his eyes gleaming. 

Shirabu was unimpressed. “Who are you?”

“Tendou Satori.” He said with a flourish. “I believe we correspond frequently.”

Shirabu’s face scrunched. “Tendou-san. Your submission isn’t due until Friday. Is there a problem?”

“Nope, no problem at all.” He glanced sideways at Eita, who still seemed pleased. “I just stopped by to see my boyfriend. He got a promotion. I’m so proud.”

Eita jabbed him with his elbow but he was still smiling.

Shirabu looked between them, eyes narrowed. 

“Anyway,” said Tendou, ignoring the stare, “I told Waka. He’s happy for us. I didn’t ask but I’m sure he’d agree to be the godfather to our firstborn.”

Eita rolled his eyes. He was still, _still_ smiling. 

Tendou wanted him to smile for the rest of his life.

Shirabu clearly wasn’t as pleased as the two of them. He looked at Eita and said, “Well, if you’re finished bragging-” he flicked his eyes to Tendou “-and you’re finished flirting, then please leave my office. I have work to do.”

“We’ll leave you to it, then,” said Semi smugly. “Come on, Tendou.” 

Tendou followed Semi to his office, his steps light, mood buoyant. He dropped into the spare chair with a laugh. “I don’t think he liked me, Semi-Semi.”

“Good. That makes me like you more.”

Tendou grinned. “So… Celebration dinner tonight?”

Eita dropped into his desk chair with a smirk. “You sure you’re not going to get sick of me?”

“Never. You should spend as much time as possible with me, though, so I can prove it.”

Eita shook his head and rolled a little closer. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Yeah.”

“Fine. We’ll have dinner. But this time you’re staying at my place. I’m not getting up that early again.”

“Whatever you say, Semi-Semi.” Tendou reached out and snagged the arm of Eita’s desk chair. He pulled him closer and the wheels squeaked. 

Eita leaned half out of his chair and found Tendou’s mouth, the kiss quick and chaste. When Eita pulled back he smiled. It was small, just a slight curve of his lips, but it was _perfect_.

Tendou loved him – oh, god, how he loved him – but it was too soon to tell him. Instead he settled with, “I can’t wait to see your new Seijoh office. I want to meet their comic artist, too. He really does suck. Maybe if I hang around and creep him out he’ll quit.”

Eita snorted a laugh. “You’re terrible.”

“So you don’t want me to?”

“I didn’t say that. I said you’re terrible.”

Tendou grinned. “But you like me anyway?”

“Yeah,” said Eita. His voice was soft, and so were his eyes. “I like you anyway.”


End file.
